The Feminine Rebellion R2
by Pandaemic
Summary: Lelouch was used to having secrets: her lineage, gender, and now an identity as Zero. Now after all of these were revealed to those she loved, it seems to be up to those she left behind to pick up the pieces. However, the ripples she made upon the world haven't finished yet...
1. Divergence

She had been through the anger, the disbelief, the pain. If she didn't know any better she would have thought that her sister had died that day. A smirk, caused by irony, set itself across her features. The comparison wasn't entirely false. Nunnally had lost the kind façade of a sister Lelouch had shown her, and in its place fell the face of a murderer.

Nunnally had always known that Lelouch lied to her. She had known that the house they lived in during their times at the shrine wasn't the picket-fenced, whitewashed house Lelouch had described to her. She could tell by her sister's voice that Lelouch had told a lie. The fields of bodies they went through as the three of them fled the army had the smell of blood. How could she forget that metallic smell? The smell that burned itself into her nostrils the day that her sight, legs, and parents were taken from her?

Nunnally knew about these lies and yet the façade of the dependant younger sister. After their exile Nunnally knew Lelouch had changed. She clung to her like never before, always checking, always worried. Even at a young age Nunnally knew she was Lelouch's emotional crutch, the biggest thing keeping her sister grounded. And so she played the part of the dependant sibling, unwilling to let her sister go. It was selfish, Nunnally thought to herself. She didn't want to be lonely. She didn't want Lelouch to leave her like their mother did. Like their father did. She wanted Lelouch to stay with her forever, living an idyllic life in Area 11. Just the two of them and all of their school friends.

She should have seen the signs. Lelouch becoming more distant, coming home late, spending long hours on the phone and computer. No, she saw them. She just put them in the back of her mind. She should have said something, something to stop her. But she was selfish. She kept believing thinking that things could go back to normal, and soon. She wanted to keep their life the way it was. She had always had that assumption, in the back of her mind. The fact that Lelouch began to change at around when the Black Knights started to pop up was no coincidence. She just ignored it. That was probably what made the reveal so much more painful. She wasn't mad at Lelouch, not entirely. She was mad at herself. Mad because she didn't connect everything together fast enough. Mad that she refused to do so. Mad that she refused to act on her instincts. The blame lied in both of them. And now, even with her sight back and the whole world to see, Nunnally never felt lonelier.

" _Tadaima!"_ Kallen's voice came from the entrance to the flat. " _Ne, Sayoko-San, Dare wa-_ Oh, Sayoko's not here?"

Well not entirely lonely. After the SAZ incident and the stalemate afterwards, Kallen and Milly had gotten a flat together in the SAZ, considering that Ashford had been damaged in the battle and they needed a place to stay. Kallen refused to go back to Pendragon with her father, and disguised her quest for personal freedom with a goodwill service from the Stadfeldt family, not that she did anything that she was supposed to do, just left it to the volunteers under her "employ". Milly wanted to stay near Ashford to help with cleanup and rebuilding, as well as to take care of her grandfather, so the two decided to rent together in the newly expanded SAZ, which now touched borders with the Tokyo ghettos. Nunnally, and by extention Sayoko, had come as well, with no other place to stay.

"You're back early." Nunally turned away from the T.V she barely paid attention to. After regaining her sight she had drowned herself in television, eyes eager to soak up every moment like it was their last, eye damage be damned. She had lost her sight for over half a decade, she wasn't going to let something like eye strain get in her way.

"Yeah, just decided to check out the new work sites. Houses are coming along nicely, but the protesters are getting bolder. There was a fire at one of the outer sites last night. It was put out before any damage was done, and the people who did it were caught, but it's getting pretty scary." Kallen tied her hair back into her signature fashion.

Nunnally frowned. Britannians had been protesting from the start, standing outside the chain-link fences with signs and speakers, blaring hate and propaganda across the thin border. Although attacks were infrequent and dealt with by the military, there was a lack of actual policing in the SAZ, other than volunteer watches, and as more Japanese from around the Area flowed in requesting sanctuary, the borders had to be expanded. The result was increasingly threatening rallies and movements standing outside the gates. Even from their tenth floor apartment in the outer area of the SAZ they could hear the sounds of blank rounds and chanting if they focused.

Nunnally moved her wheelchair over to the large panel of windows separating them from a ten storey drop. She looked down at the square which they overlooked. The garden space in the middle of the three apartment buildings had children playing, couples walking and other everyday activities. Most of those involved were Japanese. She saw several old men around tables of chess and go, several people with long rakes tending to the sand garden and fountains.

The fusion of Britannian design and Japanese tradition both gave hope to Nunnally and relieved her. The Black Knights had not fought for nothing. They had given a haven, however temporary, to the Japanese. They had laid down their arms and taken amnesty from the nation they fought against, but in return their rights were mostly respected.

" ** _And now we go to Pendragon,_** **_one year after the terrible Tokyo rebellion by the former Elevens, where His Royal Highness and Prime Minister of the Empire Schneizel El Britannia will address the veterans of that battle and the people of the Empire."_**

Nunnally returned to the T.V. The Black Knight uprising became a source of anger and shame for Britannia, allowing them to crack down on other Areas with surprising force and prejudice.

" ** _Loyal subjects, honorable allies."_** Schneizel gestured with his arms as he started his speech, " ** _Today we remember the sacrifice of hundreds of Britannians and Honorary Britannians one year ago today. One year ago today we were assaulted by an uprising by terrorists, emboldened by an invasion by the Chinese Federation and their allies. We held the line for several hours, buying just enough time for the main force to reach Tokyo before the battle could be finished. That day we put down the seeds of upheaval and chaos. That day we defended out PRIDE! Our NATION! Our PAX BRITANNIA!_**

The roar of applause drowned out whatever Schneizel said after that.

" ** _Ahem,"_** He cleared his throat and waited for the crowd to settle down before continuing, " ** _That day, the scoundrel Zero, who caused the deaths of so many innocents in his misguided attempt at peace was finally brought to justice! His reign of terror, however short-lived, ended during that battle!_** "

At that moment the screen behind Schneizel flickered to life, the image dozens of times larger than normal showed the Britannian flag to the thousands on the street. The sceen suddenly switched to a feed from several months ago. A group of soldiers stood at attention, in a line with their rifles at ease. Nunnally knew what was going to happen. She didn't flinch or feel the first time it was played. It would hardly make a difference now.

Moments later the video showed the signature mask of Zero come up from a trapdoor under the ground. The platform on which he, or rather, she, stood rose up, showing the former terrorist leader hunched over with a pair of handcuffs, looking ragged and defeated. The mask was still on, and remained on even as the firing squad raised their rifles, painted white and gilded with gold, they were symbols of power and justice to Britannia. Lelouch didn't raise her head, offered no resistance, and when asked for her last words, she shook her head and looked at her executioners. Nunnally didn't flinch at the crack of the rifles, or the thud as the body of her sister hit the floor. They took the body off stage, and with that two crowds cheered. The crowd that had gathered at the execution when it happened and the crowd at Pendragon at that time both erupted into cheers and applause.

Nunnally just sat there. She didn't feel. Reliving her sister's death made no difference. The sister she cared about and loved died on Kamine Island. Whatever was left was nothing to her.

" ** _To those who fell in battle for us, we will honour you. To those who came back, we thank you. To those who murdered Euphie and allowed Zero to rile up the Elevens against us, we will still hunt you. ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!_**

* * *

Did people make memories, or did the memories make the person? Suzaku swirled the sparkling wine in the glass. He was certainly experienced enough in the matter, both firsthand and otherwise to give an answer, and yet, he failed to come up with one.

 _Suzaku!_

He doubled over, his superb reflexes managing to slip the glass over onto the table before the migraine came into full effect. They had come ever since Kamine Island, and they came sporadically, but they were always accompanied by that voice. Her voice.

He had never liked her all that much when they were little. She was obnoxious, bratty, and stubborn to a fault. They had only been friends of convenience after the invasion. After finding her once again, he had used her. Otherwise the others would have kept up their bullying, and it probably would have been worse. He found it amusing that she was in love with him, even after seven years. It just made it all the more easier to use her as a shield against the rest of the academy. The sex wasn't half bad, either.

Although, he looked back, he had enjoyed their school life. He wished for such a life, peaceful, no need to pilot the Lancelot or fight, and possibly he could have found a proper girlfriend, or at least warmed up to Lelouch. It was her fault. Her fault that he had to fight. Her fault that he had his life nearly ruined, again. Her fault that Euphie died.

He could at least thank her for revealing herself to him on Kamine Island. He enjoyed the look on her face as he broke her, revealed to her every bit of hatred he had for her. Although, that was when the headaches began. He was knocked out after the pilot of the Guren came to rescue her precious leader. He blamed the brain damage from that to blame for the sudden flashes of emotion through him. Sometimes his feelings of contempt for Lelouch became something different. Warm was what he described it. His thoughts of Euphie, which were always loving and calming, sometimes brought great distress to him, as if something weighed down upon his chest. These attacks only became worse and worse as time went on. Psychiatric help hadn't worked. Neither had spiritual assistance.

Suzaku downed the glass of wine in one gulp. Setting the glass back on the table he picked up his cape and headed back into the Viceroy's palace. As the Knight of Seven and temporary Viceroy he had the obligation to greet any new guests and arrange the new army. There would be a new commander coming to Area 11 to assist him. Parties and tours would have to be prepared, meaning he would have another stack of paperwork on his desk. He would have to call in his secretary for this.

 **A/N:**

 **I'm gonna start this fic again**

 **Taking over someone's rythym**

 **I not even trying to pretend**

 **I know her fans ain't fools**

 **Riding on the coattails of one of my friends**

 **Won't waste this chance that I've been given**

 **So I'm gonna start this fic again**

 **I hope this works for you!**


	2. Passing Storm

**A/N: TO PEOPLE WHO FIND THIS STORY, IF YOU HAVE NOT, READ THE FIRST VOLUME HERE: s/8742890/1/The-Feminine-Rebellion . THANK YOU!**

* * *

Taxes. Invoices. Mail. Junk mail. Reports. Kallen tossed the whole stack of papers off the table. She wasn't meant to be here, cooped up in an office. She was made for fighting. For action. She had that life a year ago. Now it was over. Her time as a rebel swept up into the wind and lost. Kallen never had a chance to ask her about motives. She had just stood there, gun in hand, unable to make words come out of her mouth. The horror she saw in those amethyst eyes remained with her a year later. By the time she could move the cave had started to collapse. She had so many questions, and now they may never be answered. She put it out of her mind. It didn't matter now. Now they had to rebuild.

Kallen was in charge of most of the work. It was the price of staying in Japan over going back with her father to Pendragon. Stay here and help with humanitarian work. And so Kallen found herself stuck in an office several hours a day, sorting files, directing volunteers, managing funds. She picked up the thermos of green tea that had been knocked over in the crash and took a long sip. She needed a break.

"Ken!" She called out. Moments later a wire-thin young man came in through the door.

"Y-yes, Miss Stadtfeld?" he replied meekly.

Kallen opened her mouth to correct him, only to remember that she was still under her father's name to the people who worked for her. Considering that near all of the workers were commoners or Numbers, and that she was the daughter of a noble, it was to be expected that they would be scared of her. She pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing. "Get some people to finish these papers up. I'm going out."

Kallen unbuttoned the first button on her suit to free her neck the moment she walked out the doors of her office. It didn't take long before the stale office air forced her outside. She made a beeline for the north part of the SAZ, going through the densely packed apartment buildings in the area. Fifteen million people in such a small area was difficult to plan, but they did it. In the space of a few months Kallen and her volunteers revitalized the area, refurbished the vast majority of the dilapidated buildings and built many more from the ground up, not to mention modernizing the infrastructure and building monuments and parks. Mostly Japanese of course. The SAZ was mostly populated by Japanese, and with the autonomy they had won their culture had come back. Open air markets, food stalls, temples, shrines, and festivals made a comeback, often organized by the people.

However, things weren't perfect. There was no specific police force in the area, security was staffed mostly by volunteers and old military personnel, and were severely understaffed, under-equipped and untrained. Kallen bit her lip as she ran over the international news. A sudden streak of Britannian victories in the EU had fractured it, riots in the streets and countries splitting off, either to join Britannia, or the fledgling UFN. The time when the UFN would go to war was soon, and Kallen wasn't sure whether she wanted to fight or not.

The narrow side street was tucked away in the sprawl of apartments, but Kallen could smell the kitchen and hear the patrons long before she reached the street. She checked her watch for the time. Just about lunch. Made sense that it would be this busy.

The exterior wasn't much to look at. The storefront had several tables and umbrellas, but there were no signs or canopies advertising it to those on the main street. Kallen moved past the tight grouping of diners for lunch and made her way into the restaurant proper. The kitchens work working at full blast, stoves and fryers frantically pumping out food at a rate which was barely kept up to by the waiting staff. She eyed a few familiar faces from her days as a Black Knight, and she came upon one very familiar one.

"Tamaki!" Kallen called above the din of the diners. The red haired proprietor looked around for a moment before his eyes found Kallen. He made his way over, shuffling through the tight space and eventually coming face to face.

"Found time out of that stuffy office of yours, your nobility?" He smirked and mockingly tilted his head.

"Shut up." Kallen punched him in the arm, "I'm starving."

Tamaki shuffled across the room again and cleared the cups and plates off a table in the corner. Kallen also made her way over, carefully maneuvering around families and workers on their break, she plopped herself into the oddly comfortable plush seat.

"Order then?" Tamaki clicked his pen. Kallen took a moment to remember what it was exactly she wanted. "One order of cold soba in soup, extra soy sauce and leeks."

Tamaki stammered before remembering, "A-are you sure? I mean, the stuff probably isn't here yet, what with the difference and all-" He was cut off by the mean look she gave him, "I'll see what I can do." he turned on his heel and hurried as fast as he could through the crowd back into the kitchen.

Kallen took a sip out of the teacup one of the waitresses brought her afterwards, and leaned back.. She suddenly remembered the other letter that was put on her desk that morning. She hadn't prepared at all. She mused about who would be proper. Ken would probably faint and/or swoon at the thought. Rivalz was back in Pendragon since most of Ashford Academy, including the majority of the dorms, had been blown up in the battle. Rebuilding the school was very far down on the list of priorities. She couldn't bring any of her Japanese friends, and Milly would probably pull something from the dark depths of her wardrobe. She was pulled out of her thoughts by Tamaki, who had brought the huge bowl of soba noodles.

"We got in touch, should be ready in twenty minutes." He mumbled next to her ear.

Kallen dug into the huge bowl, devouring the noodles and soup in short order, partly due to expediency, partly due to her late awakening that morning and having to skip breakfast. It wasn't long before the bowl was completely empty. She rested for a while to let her stomach settle before making her way through to the kitchen. She went through the small double doors as two waiters came out with more food. The flight of stairs hidden in the far end led down to the underground basement.

The small light was already on in the cold room. Tamaki was down there as well. He looked at her with a serious face that was so unlike him, it scared her. The laptop, placed upon several crates of tomatoes, glowed with only two words on the screen: SOUND ONLY. She pulled another small crate from the small corner and sat down in front of the laptop, putting both of the earbuds to her ear.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Alright I've got her." She heard Diethard from across the encrypted channel, rapidly typing.

"Hello, Kallen?" She heard Chiba and Xingke speak in unison.

"Yeah, it's me." She smiled in relief, even though she knew that they wouldn't be able to see.

"It's good to hear you. I'm hoping those months in an office haven't affecting your piloting skills."

"I'm afraid so. Been to the gym three times a week and I'm still putting on flab." Kallen laughed along with Xingke, until he began coughing again.

"Don't push yourself." She heard Xianglin speak, probably from a good distance away.

"I'm fine." Xingke called back.

Kallen tried to change the topic, "How's the empress doing?"

Kallen practically heard Xingke perk up again, "She's going great. We go out and see things everyday whenever she doesn't have a meeting. She looks at everything outside like it's the first time she'd ever seen it. Well, actually it probably was. She's like the little sister I never had." He laughed again.

"What else is going on? What's the situation with Euro Britannia and the rest?"

"Not much, quite honestly." Xingke's voice grew solemn again. "There's not a lot we can do against Euro Britannia yet, not after the armistice after Tokyo, and the EU is splitting up too. We're trying to bring some of them to us, but it's a little hard at the moment. We're looking to advance the Gun-Rus and other Knightmares we have on hand."

Kallen frowned again. "Hmm, I'll see what happens over here. I'd better get back to work, there's a meeting in a bit.."

They said their goodbyes and disconnected the channel. By the time Kallen got back out onto the street Ken had messaged her the details. She sighed. Back to work she went.

* * *

The migraines had become worse, he could barely stay awake before the pain forced him back under the protection of the covers. Suzaku looked at the check-up report he had gotten that day. There was no sign of trauma or damage to his head, and nothing else could cause such pain.

He looked at the pills on the nightstand, each about the thickness of his pinky finger. Sleep aids and painkillers they were supposed to be. He took the assortment of pills, chasing it down with a good amount of water. He didn't even have a chance to start counting sheep before he went out like a light. Unfortunately, the dream world wasn't much better.

" _I-I can't do it. I just can't."_

" _What do you mean, you can't? That isn't her, at least, not the one you remember. Geass corrupted her. It's just using her to get what it wants."_

" _I-I know, but I-I just can't! Not like this, th-there's just too many memories, a-and I feel like I'm ruining something-"_

" _It's using you. Those memories, those moments, they weren't real. You want the real one back don't you? The one that you loved? The one that was really in love with you? To make real memories with?"_

" _Yes. Yes I do. I'll do anything. Anything to bring her back. To remove whatever made her like this."_

" _Then I'll give you the power to do that. I'll give you the power to bring her back. I'll give you the power to carry this out. You said you'd do anything. Did you really mean that? If not then there are many others that can carry this out, you know."_

" _I did. And I will. Please. I'll be the one to do this. I-I promised to protect her, and I will. Please. Whatever contract that I need to make, even if it's with the devil himself, I'll do it. I accept whatever I have to."_

Suzaku shot up out of bed at the sound of the alarm. 5:00 AM. He had been asleep for most of the day. The pain in his head had ceased to a dull roar, and there was no sign that his migraines were coming back any time soon. He guzzled the rest of his water, calming his parched throat. He barely remembered what had happened in his dreams, which wasn't anything special or new, so then why did he feel like he was missing something important?

* * *

"We can't keep on with this, Sir. The vitals, they're-"

"Keep going." The subject wasn't restrained, but tubes linked to cylinders full of fluid punctured the skin, and a device was strapped to the head, hiding the eyes and nose. On cue, the lights on the head device began to glow, sending the subject into painful spasms. V.V muted the screams. Many inside the control room looked visibly ill, but they returned their eyes to their screens and kept reporting readouts.

"Heart rate at 192 and increasing, blood pressure 162/100."

"No reorganization of proteins in the brain yet, brain activity erratic but stable."

"Now."

The containers, filled with blue grey liquid, began pumping out through the tubes. The subject's spasms reached at new intensity, flipping over and involuntarily crawling across the white floor. Blood came out through the mouth and nose, flying at the windows, staining them crimson.

V.V closed his eyes. "Stop it. It's done." He would have nothing to report back, except one dead subject. He never saw the purpose of having another person. They were fine with the amount they had. The heart monitor had yet to flatline, but he was sure they would in a moment. He looked back to the subject. Pale limbs twitched and moved on the ground. He was about to call for the cleanup crew when a bloodstained hand reached up and hit the glass screen. He pressed the mute button once more, and internally smiled at the words that came through the speakers. _Well, the more the merrier._

"Not….. enough….. yet…..."

* * *

 **A/N: Now if you'll excuse me, I have a camping trip to go to and a fever to get over. See you later!**


	3. Demons Never Fade Away

Funds had always been the biggest problem with rebuilding Japan. There was only so much monetary assistance coming from Britannia and the more inclined nobles for reconstruction, and most of it was put in with the intent of rebuilding the Britannian sector, and not constructing the SAZ. And so it was up to charity events and auctions to desperately try to fill the remaining gap between what they had and what was needed.

Kallen adjusted the mask on her face, the red and black silk was an unfamiliar feeling. It was too distracting and uncomfortable for her. The eyeholes were too constricting, the nosepiece pinched slightly, and any sweat that formed on her face made the lining slick and wet, causing it to slide around her face against the clasp that went around her head as she walked. The feline garment matched both her fiery red dress and hair, which had been pulled back and stuffed into some elaborate design for the occasion.

If there was something Kallen was grateful for at the moment, it was the hospitality of the Masquerade's host, Norman, Baronet of York[1]. Although a very minor noble, he was one of the more sympathetic nobles, and had offered to host a charity masquerade ball to raise funds for the development of the SAZ. The estate in Japan it was held on was massive, sporting both an expansive front yard and lawn, along with a sprawling backyard, complete with hedge maze, gardens, and fountains. A large portion of the garden section had been filled with tables and chairs for the guests, and everyone was free to dance and mingle. Kallen lifted her glass and felt the champagne tickle her throat as it went down. She was technically here on business, it would be unseemly not to follow the crowd and drink as well.

The only thing that had ground at her all week (as that was how long since The Baronet of York had cordially invited her to the event) was one very specific technicality: Kallen was single. The problem didn't lay in the fact she was single, only the etiquette involved in such. Traditions and practises in the nobility could be traced back hundreds of years, and while some of the etiquette rules were trimmed out over the years (one of which obligated a guest to kill one of their carriage horses, cook the meat, and replace the main course for a dinner with the horse meat if they forgot, neglected to give, or misplaced a present to the host.[2]), many still remained. For single, unchaperoned women, the list of proper things to-do during a party made Kallen pale and sick to the stomach.

Of course, that there was the problem of finding a suitable partner or chaperone. If Kallen chose any of her female friends, she would still be obligated to accept dances from as many suitors as possible. A male chaperone would allow her to refuse dances and conversations (for the most part) and gave a good excuse to leave whenever she wished, but that left the problem of finding a viable male companion. She knew very few guys, and most of them were either Japanese, back in Britannia, or otherwise held up. It was lucky that she had found the perfect solution to her problem right in time.

Even in the numerous guests and decorations it was hard for Kallen to lose Nunnally. Even with the wheelchair truncating her height, a fact that wasn't helped by the girl's already short stature, the dense packs of people that Kallen tracked throughout the event had yet to produce the young girl from within its conversation.

Nunnally's head had already turned in Kallen's direction as she came, her recollection of Kallen's walking pattern came in handy during the event. Her newly-dyed red hair was still an unfamiliar presence in her recently restored field of view, and the contacts in her eyes changed them from their light purple to a dark navy blue.

"Kallen!" She called out over the wall of people that surrounded her. One section of the encapsulating group split open and Kallen came through.

"Nu-Maria!" Kallen remembered the alias that Nunnally was supposed to have for the party. The one that she had to agree on with Milly in order to bring her.

* * *

" _Please, can I bring her?"_

" _No."_

 _Kallen threw up her hands and glared at Milly once again, who with crossed arms and stoic stature, refused her request._

" _Why not? What's the reason? And don't give me any of that 'she can't dance' bullshit. It really isn't going to matter at a charity event. All she has to do is stay there."_

 _Milly shifted her leg to the side, placing her hand on her hip and arching an eyebrow, "you just want her as an excuse not to deal with people."_

 _Kallen stammered, trying to come up with a comeback. "Well yeah, BUT, but she'll get to leave the house. Seriously, she hasn't left the house in months unless it was with Sayoko, and even then it's been either short trips around the parks or going to the supermarket for groceries! This could be a chance for her to make some friends, or something. Meet some people since Lelouch… well….," Kallen's voice tapered out, and she remembered that Nunnally was still in the apartment._

 _Milly sighed, "Still, I'm going to have to say are reasons she can't go, reasons that have to do with her family."_

" _What? What does Nunnally's lost family have to her going to a_ PARTY?" _Kallen forgot about how late it was, and her volume began to climb along with her anger._

" _I-I'm not at liberty to tell you." Milly replied, looking away._

" _Not at liberty?! NOT AT_ LIBERTY?!" _Kallen screeched, "What is she, a secret agent or something? Seriously, I came out with my Japanese blood, and my involvement with the Black Knights, AND that Zero was Lelouch! I came through about EVERYTHING, and I STILL don't know jack SHIT about Lelouch and Nunnally. What kind of secret are you keeping? Is Nunnally some lost_ PRINCESS _or something?"_

 _Milly internally winced. Kallen struck a little close to home with that comment. She was about to retort when she heard the sound of motorized wheels behind her._

" _What's going on?" Nunnally asked the two._

" _N-nothing, just a little-" Milly began, only to be interrupted._

" _It has to do with that party Kallen wanted me to go to, isn't it?"_

 _Milly glared at Kallen. The look said it all: 'You already asked her, didn't you?' Kallen simply shrugged innocently._

* * *

"Ah Ms Stadfelt. it is honestly a pleasure seeing you here." Kallen turned to a noble beside her, his voice a deep baritone that shook his jowls with every word.

"Yes, a pleasure to see you too. Although I believe I have never had the delight of making your acquaintance before." Kallen flashed was she hoped was a friendly smile to the man, having been in the midst of thought when she was addressed. She held out her hand for a handshake with the man.

"Lord Bradley, my dear," He took the hand and turned it over in his own before bowing to kiss it, "I heard about your ailment and I was haunted by the thought of not meeting the bright spark that has lit the fires of goodwill in our hearts." Kallen resisted the urge to pull her hand away and deck the fat noble where he stood, instead hiding behind a sip of her champagne.

"It's an amazing thing you're doing, Miss Stadfelt, helping the Japanese after that horrible rebellion. Honestly some of our fellow brethren in Pendragon would do well to learn from your example. On another note, who is that exquisite flower that came with you?" He gestured towards Nunnally.

"Ah..," Kallen tried to remember the cover story they used, "Maria? She's my sister."

"That's peculiar. Surely a daughter of Duke Stadfelt would have made an appearance as a débutante by now, even with her, ah, apparent situation."

"See, that's the thing," Kallen made an act of looking around before leaning closer to Lord Bradley's ear. She hated the story they had come up with, but she agreed that it was probably the best way to deflect attention from anyone taking a closer peek at Nunnally. "She's not my full-blooded sister. She's a half-breed, the love-child between my father and a maid." Kallen inwardly winced at using her own story for the situation, "Don't try to confront my parents about it, they'll deny it to the end. They even forced the hospital to delete their files of her birth and "

"Hmm," Bradley stroked the orange beard around his thick neck, which attached to sideburns that practically flowed out of his equestrian style mask. "That's a shame. Ah well, as they say, a perfect flower has no charm."

After the encounter with Bradley, Kallen went around again schmoozing with nobles, most of whom were at least slightly bearable to be around. By the time she had her fill of talk the sun had fully set and lanterns now lit up the area.

She pushed Nunnally's wheelchair towards the hedge maze. As Nunnally shook off her swan-based mask she realized that she never got a good look at the younger girl's get-up. Her dress was a fairly simple one, a light pink sleeved dress with ruffles and a high draped neckline. She had on dark brown stockings and Mary Jane shoes. However the most striking addition to Nunnally was her make-up. As if in spite of the other women and their smoky eyes and shadowed cheekbones, Nunnally's face was fairly described in one word: cute. A light blush to her cheeks along with the light foundation softened the girl's high cheekbones, which were much like her sister. A small amount of kohl and mascara made her eyes pop out, and the gold-coloured flakes in the contacts made them sparkle in the light. Lightner around the chin and deep red lipstick smoothed out the profile of the mouth and lower face. _Milly truly is amazing at this stuff,_ Kallen thought to herself. Along with dying Nunnally's tawny hair to red, Milly had done the vast majority of the work on the two.

"Why are you staring at me?" Kallen snapped out of her thoughts at Nunnally's question.

"Sorry, it's just I've never seen you in make-up before." She quickly turned away from Nunnally, focusing on the hedges as they walked.

As they passed by another corridor in the maze she spied at the end an odd pair. Not because of their clothes or actions, a man and a woman walking in a hedge maze arm in arm wasn't particularly notable, but the masks they wore were. The two of them wore masks in the shape of a ram's head, which covered just about everything. Kallen mused for a second. Although the odd masks weren't forbidden in a masquerade party, they were meant for costume parties rather than what was going on at the charity ball.

As they continued there were a few more of the same ram head masks, one man stood by a bush, probably peeing in it. Another stood by looking to the sky. A third had bent over to pick something off the ground. He turned to look at Kallen, tipped some invisible hat, and walked away.

Kallen leaned down to whisper to Nunnally. "Let's get out of here." By the way she jumped at her touch and feverishly nodded she agreed.

Even though stones on the ground threatened to punch through the thin material of her flats and straight up into her feet, Kallen was thankful that she could at least run in them. They had made it back fairly quickly, and Kallen wasn't too out of breath with the journey. As she leaned on Nunnally's wheelchair to recover properly The Baronet of York approached her.

"Miss Stadfelt, it's about time for your speech." His mustachioed face smiled as he spoke, and as far as Kallen could tell, it was genuine.

"Y-yes, it should be." She glanced at his watch, which was revealed with his folded hands. _9:52_. Her address to the guests was to be at 10:00. She reached for her purse and pulled out the creased pages which held her speech. Several drafts and dozens of crumpled sheets had gone through the meat grinder of her head before Kallen had a draft she was happy with. Almost 3 days without sleep had produced the thin stack in her hands. She hoped it was the last time it would happen.

Five minutes, two glasses of champagne, and about zero time practising her speech later, Kallen sat by the stage that had been set up at the front of the garden by the house. She envied how Lelouch could give bombastic, powerful speeches to her crowds. Kallen had none of the late Lamperouge's charisma. She shakily climbed the short set of steps up to the podium. One last calming breath, and she began.

"Esteemed-" Kallen was suddenly cut off by the feedback the mic created. Suddenly her nerves returned. Her hands shook, her legs felt like they were about to give, her throat was suddenly parched again, and all she wanted to do was bury herself in her pillow at home rather than speak front of the couple hundred people looking at her at that moment.

Her eyes began to frantically scan the crowd, desperate for a familiar presence. Nunnally caught the corner of her vision, and her vision suddenly snapped to the girl. A bright smile and a thumbs up, both motioned to her specifically. The nerves suddenly disappeared. The shaking and parched throat still remained, but now they were attributed to a new thing. Anticipation. that's right. She had to prove herself. Prove that she was capable of conducting a project such as the rebuilding effort. The refugees still living in co-op and temporary shelter were counting on her to bring in money.

"Esteemed guests, fellow philanthropists." She started. Her voice boomed across the garden, mostly to reach those at the far back and those in the hedge maze and fountains, "I welcome you today to thank you for whatever support you have given towards the construction of the Special Zone, and to request your future assistance." Stretching out her vocabulary was something she rarely did as a rebel, but Milly had helped with writing her speech, and helped with how sophisticated and polite it sounded. Her original drafts had been so short and full of vernacular speech that Kallen wondered whether she should have attended class more often.

"One year ago, almost to the day, Area 11 was shook apart by the Black Rebellion. In a battle costing thousands of lives we learned something about how we treated our colonies." She hated speaking from the perspective of a Britannian noble, and looking down upon the Areas, but her personal inclinations would have to take a step back if she wanted support from some of the more "on the fence" guests.

"We realized that denigrating and pushing around numbers didn't snuff out their nationalism, rather it fanned the flames. especially with the Japanese. Their pride for their country was something indescribably strong, strong enough to continue fighting for ten whole years. And in those ten years they tried to build their country back up from the ashes, they fought for independence, they fought to be treated like humans. It wasn't them who were wrong. It was us. We tried to shut them down, we saw ourselves as their betters. That we knew better. That we were better. The Black Rebellion showed us how weak we were. Most of Tokyo was destroyed, and they nearly came out victorious. They proved that they are just as strong as Britannia, and I say that they are as well. We took away a nation from these strong people, and it is now our obligation to give it back. Crushing the Japanese under the boot of Pax Britannia isn't going to solve anything. If anything it will only cause more pain, not only to them, but to us as well. So please, join me in righting this wrong and giving Japan back to the Japanese. There is but one world, and we have to stand together to truly live in it."

Kallen's voice shook as she finished. She panned the crowd as they laid silent. _Did I do well? Was the speech any good?"_ She started questioning herself. In the deafening silence all she could hear was her rapid heartbeat in her ears.

It started with one person, far in the back of the garden. It was soon followed by another, and another. Soon everyone began applauding, even a few whistles came through. Kallen smiled and laughed lightly. It HAD worked. Her hands started shuddering again as she picked up the papers and made her way off the stage. She blamed the extra champagne for making her dizzy as she descended the steps. Nunnally had wheeled her way over and embraced Kallen as soon as she could. "You were great," she said.

* * *

In all the speaking and applause no one had really noticed the large amount of vehicles that had come up to the estate. Several large trucks and armored cars stood waiting. With the speakers projecting Kallen's speech so loudly no one heard the armed troops come up through the gate towards the mansion and the back garden. The video feeds were put on loop as well. Several white Sutherlands unloaded from the cargo trucks, and diagnostic checks had been run. About three dozen armed men formed a loose semicircle facing the front of the main house. Nobody at the party heard the silenced shots that took out many of the guards patrolling. With the applause and ovations nobody heard the Knightmares carefully make their way up the road. However, everyone heard when the west wing of the estate exploded. The three dozen infantry quickly moved in, every last one of them wearing the mask of a ram's head.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **[1]: York, Upper Canada. Commonly known today as Toronto.**

 **[2]: Something I made up by myself, no need to search this up and scream at me.**

* * *

 **Latest update ever OTL. I guess a peek into the next few chapters might make up for it:**

"And with that, stage seven will wrap up whatever loose ends remain in the area. is that clear, gentlemen?" She lounged on the sofa on her private jet, swirling a cup of black coffee with one hand and twirling a small pen sized object on the other. it was in the shape of the imperial scepter. A replica of a symbol, and yet held as much power as the emperor himself.

"Miss Wainsworth, not to be rude, but how can we carry out such a plan? None of us individually have the troops to spare in the area-"

"Yes you do. If you all pool forces. Of course, I know exactly how much you all hate sharing your little toys, so I could just relieve you of all command and do it myself, but you'll all behave, won't you?" She tilted her head and smirked at the four faces on screen. The commanders in command of Area 16 since Cornelia's withdrawal, she had been tasked with getting them in line and finishing the subjugation of the Middle East.

"SUCH IMPUDENCE!" One of them blared out. His face turned bright red and pressed closer to his camera, "Young lady, show respect to your elders. You have no place to tell us what to do and control us. You're simply an analyst. Honestly, I doubt you've ever seen a battle that wasn't a test or simulation." She smirked again. if subjugating the vast majority of the Balkans and the Eastern Bloc had been a test, the man would have been right. "Honestly, you think you can do whatever you want just because you have _the emperor's scepter in your grasp._ " The thinly disguised insult didn't escape her. Her iris shrank and her eyes widened. The look of fear remained for a second before transforming to a predatory gaze.

"What….did you….just say?"

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Falling Apples and Shooting Stars**

(Gonna try putting titles to the chapters now.)


	4. Falling Apples and Shooting Stars

Kallen struggled again against the thumbcuffs. The teeth of the zip-tie dug into her skin once again, and she stopped. with her hands behind her back there wasn't much she could do. The rope that forced her arms to her sides kept her from looping her legs through her arms to put her hands in front of her again, and the thumbcuffs kept her from trying to undo the rope. She smirked to herself as she looked again at the ram-head wearing terrorists. They actually knew what they were doing.

She couldn't even flop backwards onto her back. An older blonde woman, obviously terrified at their current situation, touched shoulders with her. All of them were packed close together, shoulders, back, and arms touching another person.

"Wha-what's going on?" Kallen shifted her head to the woman beside her. From what she could tell from their arms touching, she was beyond scared. "A-are we going to be alright?"

Kallen gave something like a reassuring smile. If her hands were free she would have placed on on the other woman's shoulder, too bad they weren't free to do so. "We'll be fine." It seemed her calming exterior had worked, and Kallen turned her attention back to the stage, where one of the ram-heads had commandeered the mic.

"People of Britannia." He placed his hands on the podium, his voice both grave and filled with foreboding. Kallen twisted her head again and laid her eyes on a pair of terrorists holding a T.V camera. _So they're using us to send a message._ She thought.

"I come to you with a warning. A warning not to continue with this pretense of peace any longer. A warning to those who attempt to reach out their hands to the filth, the unclean. The _Elevens_ have just revolted against us." He spat out the pejorative term with much disdain. "In an attempt to climb higher than the slot they were allotted. We gave them a new Japan, better than before, and yet they show no gratitude for it. We modernized almost every aspect of life here, from infrastructure, to schooling, and yet they still want more. The average living standard of an honorary Britannian is much higher than even the white-collar workers of their old government, and yet they show no appreciation to us for giving them things we never gave to other Areas."

Kallen wanted to spit at the man on the podium. _You treated Japanese like dogs, forced them to the ghettos, and then killed us the moment we seemed like a problem._

"There is but one request in our hearts," He lowered his head and dripped humility from his voice. His right arm raised above him, as if preaching, his left held patriotically over his heart. "Disband the SAZ.

Kallen nearly ripped apart the rope right then and there. All her hard work, her brother's death, the death of her friends, Lelouch's rebellion. It would be for naught if the government caved into this- this monster.

"It will only be an exercise in futility. The more power the pigs get, the more they desire. And giving them something they can call a country will only lead to more unrest. There are more protesters at the border fences every day, and they will just keep growing. Of course, this won't have a time limit." He chuckled, and on cue the camera began panning the faces of the hostages, Kallen included.

"These people have made the grave crime of aiding and abetting those terrorists who plunged Tokyo into chaos just one year ago." His index finger now raised to emphasise the point. he then pointed it out towards Kallen's general direction. "Every thirty minutes starting now, We will execute one hostage until our demands are met. It is your choice. The Elevens or your own citizens. Choose wisely."

Kallen's blood froze and her heart sank to her stomach as the speech ended. There was no way that the government was going to refuse now. All her work had just gone down the drain. It would be a miracle if the Provisional Government let them die, and any attempt to save them now would end in a bloodbath. As much as she hated to depend on such a person, their lives were now in Suzaku's hands.

"Take her." She heard them quite a distance away. Her heart fell even further as she heard the screams and scuffling. They were taking Nunnally.

* * *

She stared at the tiny white doll across from her, alien in shape with its bulbous head and lack of arms or facial features. Glancing back at the chessboard she moved her knight forward two ranks. She had now guaranteed the momentum in her favor. Unless…

The doll climbed up onto the board, shuffling across pawns and rooks to reach the queen. From its sides grew a pair of arms to pick up the queen, moving it forward to threaten her recently placed knight.

She smirked. The doll, a relative newcomer to C's World, was one of the few she could have a proper chess game with. In her time as the Dimensional Supervisor few had been able to play her properly. It was a title she cared nothing for. If she could be frank, it would be analogous to putting a kindergartener in charge of a daycare. She was only the least bored, suicidal, and emotional of the Code Bearers.

"Why did you move your queen?" She asked.

If the doll could smirk, she bet it would have. "I just feel like it's time to develop my queen." And with that it left their plane in a flash of light. The Dimensional Supervisor shook her head and smiled. It was like it to act all flashy like that.

* * *

Nunnally just stared forward blankly as she was led away from the other hostages. The man wheeling her chair carried his pistol with him.

"What are you going to do with me?" She asked as they came to a stop. She tried to hide her shaking as he turned to face her.

"You should know by now, girlie. You're going to die." He taunted her and stuck his face close. She could smell his breath, laced with quite a bit of alcohol. "Although, now that I can see you…"

He grabbed her by the chin and wrenched her head around, examining her like an antique vase.

"It'd be a waste to just kill you like this." She could barely registered what before her wheelchair was turned over and she blacked out.

* * *

"Do you seek power?"

The voice was far away, as if speaking to her through some other dimension. Nunnally opened her eyes. She wasn't in the garden anymore. Everything around her was white, and there seemed to be no end to it. In front of her laid a doll. Somehow she knew it was the one talking to her.

"No. All I know about power is that it's done nothing for me."

"Then how about letting it do something for you for once?"

"What do you mean?" She stood up somehow and frowned at the doll.

"You seem to be in a tight spot at the moment. I can give you the power to get you out of this. I can also give you the power to accomplish your goals, my White Witch."

"What do you mean, goals?" Nunnally decided to ignore whatever it just called her.

"You want to see a peaceful world, don't you? Without all this fighting and war, without poverty, without hunger?"

The proposal started to intrigue Nunnally. She wanted to have a normal life again. She wanted world peace so badly. She wanted to take the situation was dire. However she still hesitated.

"Power always comes at a price. What's yours?"

"The power of the kings is a lonely one, My White Witch. From henceforth you will walk a path different from other mortals. You will exist on a different plane of time and space. You will forever be alone."

Nunnally laughed uncharacteristically. "I'm already lonely. I have no one left in the world, except for Kallen and Milly. I am prepared to take such a path, especially for a better world." She didn't know what was making her take such a leap of faith, to put her trust in this doll. But all she knew was that now she had to act. To bring about the world she now wanted, she would have to act.

And so, for the second time in her life, Nunnally opened her new eyes.

* * *

 **A/N: OTL I have no excuse.** **Really OOC, plot-driving Nunnally is OOC.**

 **Next Chapter (Soon™): Of Kings and Queens**


	5. Of Kings and Queens

**Chapter 5: Of Kings and Queens**

* * *

As Nunnally woke up from that dream she could feel the power in her left eye. It beat and pulsed against her skull like it had a heart of its own. The tingly red filter that hovered in front of her left side vision fittingly matched the effect of blood pooling in front of her her right. That is not to say that she could see the evidence of the cut on her forehead so much as smell it. The crimson substance smelled of copper so much that it was as if Nunnally held an old oxidized penny to her nose. It was a smell Nunnally wished she could forget. The vital fluid wasn't an effective smelling salt, however, it was enough to alert the dazed girl of her dangerous surroundings.

Suddenly the rest of her senses returned and she could now feel the terrorist feeling her up.

His slightly calloused hands stroked her hair, seemingly uncaring if the tangles pulled at her scalp. She bit her tongue and played dead once more, allowing her body to remain limp on the ground. Her bite became painful from the effort it took took to ignore the reflex to punch the offender in the face. As the assaulting hands moved to more lewd locations, a voice flooded her mind; a temporary distraction from the physical world.

 _ **The contract is complete, your Geass is now available to use.**_

 _What does this Geass thing do?_ She thought to herself. It was only her intuition, but whatever that doll was probably communicated to her through her-

 _ **You should know, Nunnally. It takes the form of your deepest desire, your truest of wishes for those around you. Well that and a little caveat, but revealing that right now would be a waste.**_

Nunnally's face remained impassive as her frown was only communicated telepathically. It wouldn't be of much help. However, as the terrorist moved his hands up her calves, coming alarmingly close to the hem of her skirt, the answer came to her. _Truest of wishes, huh?_

"Stop." Nunnally commanded.

Although her vocal chords did indeed move, she couldn't even recognize the voice that said that syllable. In that moment than she felt in her more power in that word than in entire life. How many times had she uttered those words while other students teased her with no avail? And yet the terrorist suddenly lept away. His ram mask threaten to move from its firmly fashioned position on his head from the force of his start. Subtle shakes trembled from his hands that she was far too familiar with as the men seemingly clashed with a desire to wrap his digits up in the material of his jacket, over his undoubtedly stammering heart.

"What are you doing?" She continued.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" He retorted, voice not only steady but containing a vengeful calm. He grabbed her by her collar and hauled her upwards; his second hand cupped her chin. "You see, girly, I have the gun." His satisfied smirk could be denoted by the tone of his voice. It jumped up an octave, and not only that, his stance puffed up with pride. Nunnally's heart skipped a beat when the hand holding her collar moved to press the chilly metal of his firearm to her temple.

She couldn't afford to be helpless, not here, and not now. Her inability is what caused this whole mess, and she'd be damned if that continued on any longer. With her newfound power, she wasn't helpless anymore. She swallowed the lump in her throat, which tracked down and blocked the pit from forming in her stomach, and searched for something, anything that she could latch onto with her geass.

His grip moved from her chin to her neck when she refused to answer his next question, mind too occupied to care for such trivialities. "Stupid bitch," he grumbled, and pressed her into the ground. She gasped for air. As her windpipe struggled to expand under the terrorist's grip she found it. Engraved gold poked into the side of her neck, the pain it caused penetrated her oxygen starved brain, calling the ceremonial jewelry to her attention.

"What would… your… wife… think?" She gasped for air and activated her geass again. The environment became hazy, and out of focus, and she filled his mind with guilt and shame with her power. She could almost visualize the energy invading his heart as a toxic black gas, going directly into his body, originating from her lips. Still, she was surprised when he released her.

"Wha- how did you?"

Nunnally cut him off before he could continue, "What would she say if she saw you doing this, assaulting a crippled girl?" She almost accidentally added in the word blind in there as well. That gambit was going to work only once. She added in anger and helplessness, colored a burgundy and deep blue to the mix. She tore her mind's eye from the illusion in hopes of finding more details to feed to the fire.

"You never knew her!" His voice cracked. "You never knew anything! You weren't there when those, those _SAVAGES_ came for us. We were supposed to be on the last plane out of Area 11 before the bombers came."

The man dropped to his knees. His gun fell into the thick manicured lawn, but still within reach. Light reflected off the polished horns of his mask as he lowered his face, and watched his knuckles dirty from the dirt clenched in his hands.

"You don't understand what we do, what we fight against! There was rioting and attacks for days after war was declared, and-and-and th-then, they found us."

His head fell, revealing a slight tan line at the nape of his neck, as Nunnally added more sorrow to him. Her stomach twisted and turned as the man spilled his memories. Her assailant appeared much more human the more he divulged, and deeper he sank into a bowed position. Not to mention that she was previously less apt than other members of her family at hatred.

"W-we were hiding in an old factory. The airport was still under lockdown. A-and then they found us. Took and killed the men, a-and then they-" He was cut off by another wave of sobbing. Nunnally didn't need him to finish for the picture to form in her head. "I hid in a corner, away from everyone else. I s-saw everything. That's why I fight. they-they're beasts! They'll turn on you at the slightest opportunity. They rebelled against us for years and now you all are giving them land _back!_ I want them under control. So things like what happened never happen again. I want them to suffer. The same way I did for years because of them."

The sound of his wails fell to the background. Her focus stayed on her own breath, which threatened to hitch from sob story. She couldn't afford to pity him if she wanted to get out of this alive. _Besides, he had just tried same thing to me_ , she thought. _**KILL HIM.**_ She heard from a dark corner of her mind. _**HE DOESN'T DESERVE TO LIVE.**_ Nunnally stayed her shaking voice. The mist, blood red and furiously glowing, stopped in its tracks, and retreated to her mouth. She couldn't kill him. It wasn't in her to do it. Even if she searched the depths of heart there wasn't any part of her that was willing to send him down the path to death. However the presence refused to back down. _**KILL HIM. KILL HIM. KILL HIM.**_ As she struggled with the voice a third option came to her. She switched out some of his sadness and regret for the feeling of an epiphany. The feeling a bright-white yellow, tinged with black.

"But would she want you to take revenge for her?" Nunnally saw his glassy and bloodshot eyes widen. _Good._ "Shouldn't you have saved her right then and there?" As her voice grew in intensity she slowly began to stand up. Adrenaline, courage, and strength of will flowing into her in a red-hued stream of light from that came from her mouth as she spoke. "Would that have led to you doing this, the same thing that HAPPENED TO HER?!" She now stood tall above the knelt form of the terrorist, wide-eyed in fear and revelation.

He suddenly collapsed in a storm of tears, forehead touching the ground in a classic kowtow. "I'm sorry Mira! I'M SORRY~!" though his wretched sobbing he picked his pistol up from the ground and cocked it. His hands shook violently as he spoke again. "I-I'm going to make up for it. I'm g-going to pay for w-what I've done, and w-what I-I haven't."

"No-" Nunnally didn't even have time to stop him as his hands forged within themselves a steely calmness and the trigger was pulled.

The moment the body hit the ground Nunnally collapsed as well, and threw up the contents of the banquet and a large quantity of blood. She steadied herself by her hands as her knees gave way as well. A river of blood flowed down her chin, fueled by the crimson tributaries that emerged from her mouth and nose, pooling around her hands as her vision blurred. It took a moment for her to process what had just happened. _D-did I just… KILL someone?_

"What just happened?" She could barely hear the voice from far away, compounded by the ringing in her ears and her consciousness slowly fading. They had heard the gunshot.

 _ **My my, I didn't think you'd be brought down so quickly. Ah well. I was hoping for some fun as well.**_

* * *

"It's too quiet out there." A terrorist knightmare pilot called out over his radio. "Normally there'd be police swarming the place, especially since there's so many rich bigwigs in one place." He stopped scanning the skies with his sniper rifle and leaned back against the brick chimney that he made his little sniper hole. Shingles broke and fell as he moved the massive machine.

"Dunno, maybe they're planning something?" He heard from one of the knightmares stationed at the front gate, attempting to cover the profile of the Sutherland with a large ornate fountain. Others hid behind metal barriers about half their height.

"I doubt it. there's no chatter on the police signals, and there's no way someone can see us outside of radar range with the forest around the property, so they'll be mobilizing the grunts first."

"Maybe someone got access to their phone and leaked pictures of us?" A third pilot added

"No way, not with the jammer setup." The sniper replied. The cellars of the estate now housed several high-tech jamming devices. From where they were the couldn't hear the humming that now reverberated

"Cut the chatter Wraith team." A gruff voice broke through their discussion. Their commander, an old veteran from the invasion of Area 11, had been forcibly discharged after attempting to sabotage the second SAZ opening ceremony, held just weeks after the end of the Black Rebellion.

"Yes Sir." The sniper checked through the IFFs that blipped on his radar screen. Wraith 1, their commander, along with Wraiths 3, 6, and 7 were all at the front of the main house, along with two dozen grunts to hold off anybody that tried to come through the front gate. Himself, Wraith 5, was on the roof along with Wraith 4, filling the role of snipers and fire support. He glanced over at Wraith 4 loading her rocket launcher, loaded with what amounted to a shotgun shell filled with small little missiles, each with lock-on function. She was one of the newer ones, only recently brought in. In the backyard there were Wraiths 2, 8, and 9, along with another dozen soldiers dealing with the hostages.

A new blip flashed onto the radar screen, an unknown designation hanging over it like a badge of honor. He looked at the light blue designation, taking a short moment to orient himself with the north-facing radar screen. It was coming from the backyard.

A cursory scan from his factsphere confirmed what his eyes could see through the monitor. There wasn't anything there. He looked back to the radar screen. Now the unidentified unit was moving. With one eye on his radar and the other on his screens Wraith 5 looked around, seeing if he could get a glance of the enemy unit. There was nothing.

"Hey guys, I think my radar is broken. Is there something popping up on your screens?"

"Yeah, I can see it too." Wraith 2 answered.

"Same here." Said Wraith 6.

"Guess it's not me then." Wraith 5. "Might be the jammer. It's probably messing up this equipment."

"Could be the stuff itself." Wraith 4 added to the conversation. "We stole this shipment from a factory, and it wasn't an order or anything. These were probably being sent to be torn apart and reassembled."

"I guess we just ignore it for n-" Wraith 5 suddenly fell back in his chair, his stomach climbing all the way to his throat as the feeling of falling filled his body. The shock of impacting the roof shook his body multiple times as his Sutherland tumbled end over end, sending shingles and wood dust flying as his external cameras cracked from the impacts. He came to a stop, now leaning backwards quite a bit. He shook off the dizziness and blinked away the fog from his vision, taking a look at his bios screens once more.

"Ah, I'm missing my legs." He thought calmly. The concussion muffled the warning and emergency alarms as well as the voices frantically searching for their new enemy over the radio. His knightmare's arms were also trapped, one twisted at a peculiar angle backwards from the elbow joint, the other completely missing.

" **WHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCK?!** " Wraith 5 singled out Wraith 4's frenzied screaming over the jumble of voices. Even through his cracked and glitching monitors he could see the action that took place in front of him even as it distorted and his vision faded. He tried to stay awake, and his breathing and heartbeat soon overtook the vast majority of his hearing. His attention was solely focused on the screen, trying to stay awake with what he saw outside.

Wraith 4 raised her rocket launcher, aiming and firing directly in front of her, at the shimmering, distorted space that stood over his disabled frame. However, as the trigger was pulled an invisible talon snatched the launcher's barrel, forcing it upwards and sending the rockets upwards towards the sky. In the same fluid motion, the shimmering space separated the shoulder joint from the rest of Wraith 4's Sutherland, sending it crashing onto the roof, where it slid almost off the edge. Wraith 5 could imagine her terrified screams as _**something**_ punctured through the top (or front, as it were) of the cockpit. His senses returned for just a few moments as an even louder alarm than the ones before sounded through his disabled cockpit—The "Missiles Approaching" warning.

* * *

"HA HA HA HA HA! AAHHH HA HA HA HA!" Nemo cackled madly as the tip katana tore through the cockpit of downed sutherland. "It's breathtaking, human emotions!" it pulled its right hand away from the joystick. More refined and exquisite than any of the twisted, warped appendages that came from itself. The porcelain white skin and its smooth, supple texture unlike anything Nemo had possessed firsthand.

"No longer am I stuck in that lonely box, that bleak, facsimile of existence. for now I am FREE!" The sharpness of the sensations that filled its mind outmatched anything that Nemo had felt in the numb, unfeeling state it had been its whole life. Adrenaline filled Nemo's mind with haste and clarity, and without prior experience with the rush it gave, Nemo cackled louder and louder. The shaking feeling in its limbs excited it, and the dopamine rushes that came with a kill filled Nemo with a sense of fulfillment and happiness it never could have imagined existed.

Nemo moved the Mark Nemo over to the discarded arm of the Sutherland it just stabbed. Wrenching away the fingers, now locked in a death grip from the sudden lack of commands. A rush of glee ran through Nemo's inexperienced mind as the launcher was held in the Mark Nemo's hands and shimmered out of sight. _The active camouflage is so useful._ Nemo thought.

A glancing shot to the shoulder of the Mark Nemo brought Nemo back to reality, somewhat. One of the Sutherlands in the backyard had fired on where it stood. Nemo watched in slight annoyance at the bullets that started whizzing by it. It wasn't long until bullets from the others began to join the fray.

It twisted around towards the knightmares in the front yard, allowing the bulky launcher to lock on before firing. The Mark Nemo was jerked by the sudden recoil, and Nemo quickly regained footing on the shingled roof. With the sudden blaze that formed in the front yard and numerous LOST signals flashing on the radar another rush of dopamine hit Nemo, momentarily sending it into a dazed state. It could almost feel the smell of ammonia slashing at its nostrils, the sensation of disgust and pain beyond anything it could have imagined. The motorcycle style seat was now slick with sweat and drool (among other things.) and Nemo could feel the slick, leather-like texture through its bare skin.

It took a deep hit to the Mark Nemo's shoulder to spring Nemo back into action. It dropped the launcher onto the roof, which then proceeded to slide down and smashed straight through the deck below. It then jumped off the roof, and buried the katana into the closest sutherland, breaching the sakuradite core through the cockpit.. "WRAITH 2!" came over the loudspeakers of the other knightmares, and Nemo kicked away the volatile wreck after wrenching the rifle from its hands. The other two and the soldiers began firing at where Nemo seemed to be.

"HA HA HA HA HA HAA!" Nemo started to cackle again. Being in this close range firefight made its heart begin to pump even faster. Its muscles shook with every control. It didn't take long before the first one was gunned down. several KMF bullets struck the head of the Sutherland, forcing the auto eject, sending the cockpit flying away. It didn't go far, however, as Nemo shot at it in mid air, causing a detonation.

it continued to lead the others away from the hostages, moving towards the massive stone tower in the north wing of the mansion. It swerved as it shot, taking down most of the infantry that the terrorists had. The knightmare, on the other hand, was a different problem. The rushes of hormone-induced rage caused Nemo to act brashly, randomly firing at it without leading, causing most of the shots to completely miss. Several more bullets pinged against the Mark Nemo, the last of which finally dropped the camouflage. The lone Sutherland's fire began to tighten up, glancing shots against the rifle. Nemo threw it away as the magazine was breached and it exploded in front of it. "Grrr…" Nemo growled. There had to be a way to finish this now.

A crazy plan began to form in its head, and it brandished the katana again, running straight at the sutherland. It began to backpedal and swerve away from the blade-wielding knightmare. Suddenly Nemo reversed the grip with the flick of control stick and threw it at the enemy like a throwing javelin, embedding itself into the core of the knightmare. Nemo left the Katana there, too late to retrieve it now.

With all the emotions and the whirlwind of battle over, Nemo suddenly felt fatigue for quite possibly the first time. Every muscle began to ache, and as the adrenaline began to leave its system, its vision began to cloud over. Even the Mark Nemo moved sluggishly. Nemo could see the hostages in sight now, the glowing flames from the areas of the mansion damaged in the battle casting long, dark shadows on the ground. It wasn't until it almost reached them when it saw it. One of the terrorists' Sutherlands with the hostages.

"You think that little set of fireworks could stop me, you disappearing freak? Keep an eye on your surroundings, first rule of combat. I can totally see you now. God you look worse than I thought. Who the fuck made your frame, a goddamn monkey?" The last terrorist taunted Nemo. Too tired to do anything Nemo seethed at him. From what it could gather from the radio chatter, this was the commander of the bunch.

"Take one more step and I put holes into all of these bleeding-heart pigs!" He declared, and yelps from the group of hostages reached even Nemo, as far away as it was, as the Terrorist shook the KMF rifle at them. "You're gonna come out of that machine, and show me your face, you got that, you fucking freak?! Come out here!"

Nemo seethed with anger. It wouldn't comply. It looked around, trying to find a way to get to them before the terrorist opened fire. It zoomed in on the group. It seemed smaller than it last remembered. Nemo only hoped that it was that they got away, and not something worse.

"You're the strong, silent type, huh?" The terrorist cocked the gun again. "I'll give you to the count of four to come out, or I start unloading!" Nemo's heart suddenly fell into its stomach.

"ONE!" Nemo frantically racked its brain together, trying to find an answer.

"TWO!" pinpricks of tears began to form at its eyes. There wasn't anything else it could do.

"THREE!" Nemo pulled away from the control sticks, thumbing the release hatch. It was about to release it when-

"FO-," The terrorist was cut off by a green lance from the sky, and Nemo looked to where it came from. Several zoom calibrations later and it found it in the far distance. A white angel on red wings floated there, as if it were the one designated to pass judgement on the world. A relieved Nemo began to move the Mark Nemo away, to return the body back, something that it loathed to do but was necessary.

"YIPPEE, YIPPEE, YIPPEE!" Suzaku saw Lloyd doing his happy dance over the monitor he had permanently connected to a feed of the CAMELOT team. "IT WORKED! IT WOORKED! MY BABY WORKED!"

* * *

Suzaku couldn't help but crack a smile at the eccentric scientist. He lowered the contraption, a larger, more accurate version of the VARIS rifle. The stock went all the way back to the Lancelot's upper arm, where it then connected to a battery pack on the back of the Lancelot's Flight Pack. He took one last look at the ruins of the mansion. skulking away from area was a large black knightmare, completely foreign in design. A sense of trepidation made Suzaku shiver. What was to come from seeing that machine again? The last time he felt this way was meeting Lelouch after their decade of separation. He fumed again. Even thinking about her made his head ache and his heart beat like a drum. But recently it was less out of anger and more of something else. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Oh Suzaku, there's someone here for you, a Sophia Patton. She says that she's your strategist."

* * *

 **A/N: You know what, berate me all you want. I'll take it. I won't even say I'm sorry. Publishing this this late has just no excuse. Also thanks to Ayaheartright for helping me with some of the writing. I appreciate it.**

* * *

Next Chapter: Rebel, Rebel


	6. Rebel Rebel

_Nunnally awoke to the sound of rain. A crackle of lightning brought her to a state of full alertness. Her eyes flashed open to be faced with old cobblestones, slick with rainwater and gleaming like gems in the moonlight. The smell of ozone pushed through her nostrils and tickled her senses. The sound of thunder, much closer and louder than any thunder she had heard in her life, made her panic and attempt to get up. Her legs refused to move, no matter how hard she willed them to. Not even a shudder came from the two appendages. No despair or shock was registered in her mind, however. No response had come from her legs in over a decade. It was stupid to assume that would change now. Another lightning strike came, this time striking the ground not fifty meters from Nunnally, sending shards of cobblestone and mortar to strike her and tear at her skin. The cuts seared her nerves, forcing her upper body to the ground in pain. A third explosion sent Nunnally flying into the ruins of a small building. The smell and taste of ash began to worm its way through her nose and mouth. Stuck in a semi-sitting position, all she could do was stare at the cloudy sky._

 _Another flash of lightning and the shapes of two titans, possibly mechanical in design, grappled with each other. Tiny flashes of red flitted across the sky, the deep rumblings of explosions reaching Nunnally's ears soon afterwards. The smoke began to encircle her now, clouding vision and causing her to cough. Her chest began to heave, the invisible weight growing heavier every time she tried to draw in air. A ringing sound-no, closer to a beeping sound filled Nunnally's ears as her vision waned from the smoke. The beeping took over more and more of her hearing as Nunnally gasped for breath. Her lungs heaved in one final push and then-_

She woke up. The smell of smoke was still in her nostrils, as was the loud, now obnoxious beeping. Nunnally tore open her eyes, and the first thing to fall in her line of sight was…

Kallen desperately trying to put out a flaming pan, upper body wet as she flailed the burning kitchen utensil. Milly ran in with the kitchen fire extinguisher, White foam shot out of the small white cannister, suffocating the fire in short order.

 _Just a dream, it was just a dream._ Nunnally fell back onto the pillow once more. She could feel her hand numbly shaking in fear. It felt so real, every moment, every sensation felt so vivid. She shook off the thin blanket that was placed over her, her whole body shifting so her legs could hang off the edge of the couch seat.

"Oh, you're awake." Milly came over with a pair of crutches. Inside their cramped tenth story loft there were quite a few places that Nunnally's wheelchair couldn't move into, forcing the trio to buy a pair of crutches for Nunnally to move around tighter areas, such as their kitchen island.

"Thanks," Nunnally responded before pulling herself up and moving over to the table. Clad in just a large T-shirt, Nunnally shivered from the draft that came in through the window, the smell of smoke leaving their apartment along with the tension from her dream. Satisfied that the fire had gone out, Kallen chucked the charred pan into the sink before sitting down and gesturing to the other two to sit down as well. Nunnally carefully moved to the chair opposite to Kallen, the brown stained wood emitting a low scraping sound across the tile floor as it moved. There were no carpets, for obvious reasons. Milly sat between the two of them.

"Well, that's the last time I make eggs with a hangover," Kallen snarked before resting her head against the dining table. She raised it again to down another aspirin before addressing the other two again.

"What the hell happened last night?" Kallen said, quietly due to her own headache. "First Nunnally gets taken away, then all of a sudden some weird knightmare shows up to save the day, and then I find you bloodied in the grass, but with no wounds on you whatsoever. Fess up, missy."

"I," Nunnally stuttered to find a good answer. She couldn't just blurt out " _Oh, I have some supernatural power that gives me manipulation and a giant mech."_ "I don't know."

Kallen threw up her hands and leaned back, wincing as her brain smashed against her still-hurting skull. "Why am I not surprised? Why am I not surprised? I don't even know you, Nunnally, you know that? All I know is that you're Lelouch's little sister, and hell, even I'm not 100% sure on that either. You both know who I am, what I did. But I. Still. Know. Nothing. I want answers, guys. From either of you. I don't care. I just want answers."

Nunnally glanced at Milly, who in turn glanced back. A shared hissing breath passed between them. Milly slowly blinked, denoting her sense of surrender to Nunnally. There was no way out of this one, not with their friendship intact.

Milly spoke up first. "Kallen," She looked at the former Student council member with grave seriousness. "What you are about to hear is a secret. One that only me and my grandfather carried for almost seven years now. If you betray this, to anyone, you may get Nunnally killed. Are you listening?"

"Jeez hurry up, what's so important that it could kill her?"

Milly hissed again, mentally preparing herself. _Just rip the band-aid off now_. "Nunnally Lamperouge does not exist. That name does not and will not appear in any database before 2010."

"What? Then-, huh?" Kallen was unable to articulate, and just looking at Nunnally's downcast, sheepish face was difficult.

"Nunnally Lamperouge does not exist, but-but," Milly glanced back at Nunna one last time, hoping that she would stop this. As much as she wanted to come clean, holding back for 7 years made her cautious, almost too cautions. With an audible exhale she finished, "Nunnally Vi Britannia does."

Kallen just sat there, dumbstruck. For a moment all that was heard in the apartment was the drip-drop of water in the sink and the wind from outside. "Y-you expect me to believe that, that-that Nunnally is a-a,"

"Yes, I am." Nunnally folded her hands together to keep them from shaking. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. My full name is Nunnally Vi Britannia, thirteenth princess of the Holy Britannian empire, and formerly 87th in line to the throne."

"I can't believe this, I can't fucking believe this. Oh my god. Why? Why are you living among us? Wait, does-does this mean Lelouch-"

"Yes, Sister is-er-was the third princess, 17th in line."

"Then... then… I was fighting under a Britannian Princess this whole time? What for? Why was she on our side? Was she just using us?" Kallen began to hyperventilate, facing an existential crisis from what had just been revealed.

"She wasn't just using you, Kallen." Nunnally interrupted. "At least that isn't what I think." She went into their past with Kallen, and told everything. Their mother's assassination, their exile to Japan, their abandonment at the hands of their father and seeking refuge with the Ashfords.

"I'm sorry, I just need some time to process this." Kallen focused her eyes on the wood grain of the table.

Nunnally felt her arms go numb. Never had she divulged her past to anyone, but Kallen was a close friend. She could trust her, right?

Her mind went back to the party, to the terrorist attack. Not all was alright in the special zone. Someone needed to keep order, to keep people safe. The fire, the screams, the fear that had been felt, Nunnally could see all of it with her geass. And yet, she couldn't-no, didn't do anything. Not any longer would Nunnally Vi Britannia sit idly while others kept her safe. She lost too many people to that. It was her time to take action.

* * *

Of all the impudent things that could have been done by his military advisor, this was by far the worst. Suzaku's phone threatened to crack in two under his grip as he re-read the message for possibly the hundredth time.

 _Srry, Suzu-chan! Gonna b l8, plane got delayed in storm over Australia. B there tmrw! 3_ **[1]**

Never mind that all that she sent was a text, never mind the grammar, never mind the fact that she called him Suzu- _CHAN,_ never mind that she sent him a god damn heart in the text. No he was seething that he had been called up by Cecile almost right after landing back in the Camelot, expecting to be greeted with the sight of his new advisor, and getting a small pink cell phone with a single line of text. Not even ten full words. He paced around in anger, the autumn wind nipping at his cheeks, carrying with it the faintest smell of fallen leaves.

It had taken Suzaku all night, along with several cups of coffee and no less than a fistful of painkillers to once again arrange for Lady Patton's pickup. Being on the phone at 2 AM with the company president of a luxury limo company almost made Suzaku snap. He wanted to take his sidearm and personally go to all the people that he had to talk to in the first place to pick up his advisor, and then hold them at gunpoint to reconsider the date for this evening. It probably would have taken less effort too. He had a new respect for Lelouch, working late at night juggling two lives while hopped up on caffeine. In his exhausted subconscious he could remember the night of Empire Day last year. It stuck in his mind because of the fireworks keeping him up, but he could still remember it, even now.

 _Even in post-coital exhaustion it was near impossible to sleep for Suzaku. The bright flashes and sharp bangs of fireworks set off by the school combined with the low rumbling of the ones launched from the Viceroy's Palace made it near impossible to close his eyes. Still, he laid there, next to Lelouch. Not ten minutes ago was she holding onto him for dear life, deep within the throes of passion. Now she sat up with her laptop open beside him, quietly working on what seemed to be a latin project from where he was lying. The blue light from her screen cast upon her pale face interrupted by the occasional red, yellow, and green-_

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't with Lelouch on Empire Day. That night he and Euphie had gone out into town, incognito. It had ended with a session bound to give Cornelia a stroke at the mere thought. Lelouch HAD offered to spend the holiday together, but he had declined. The slight glint of disappointment in her eyes as he politely refused didn't move his heart at all. She had been useful to him, having someone to stand up for him against some of the less welcoming students had been handy, and having someone he knew around was just as helpful. He was brought back to this world by the sound of a small jet touching down on the private landing pad. Another yawn came over him before he turned around to the honor guard that had come with him.

"Present! ARMS!" He barked out, and every man in the 10 strong line raised their rifles, pointing it 45 degrees upwards and away from their chests. Suzaku sighed. At least the honor guard didn't make fuss about rescheduling. The plane parked far away, and Suzaku couldn't see her be loaded into the black car that was waiting there. It was almost 50 meters away when Suzaku realized how dumb all this was. They were barely half a kilometer from one of Clovis' many estates on the outskirts of Tokyo, and Commander Patton had wanted to meet him out in the airfield. It seemed to Suzaku one of the many adages of nobility was "Pragmatism be damned.".

20 meters now. He walked forward, stiff and formal to meet the black car. He stood at attention until the rear door of the car pulled up next to him. He personally pulled open the door and held out his hand for the lady, expecting a leather army-issue glove to tightly grab his hand.

What he got was something completely different. A dainty white lace glove gently lowered itself into his waiting palm. Porcelain white skin followed soon after, and Suzaku couldn't help but stare at her ensemble as she left the car. A white sundress with lace trim both homogenizing her figure and yet accentuating it. A gold necklace hung around her collarbone, in the shape of a knight's crest, confirmed to Suzaku that she was his advisor. Her raven hair was held back in what was most likely a bun, with a single streak of white pulled forward and braided just to the left of her face. A large (again, white) victorian hat shaded over most of her face, but with their proximity he could still see her face clearly. He almost instantly regretted it. He immediately blanched, his inner face morphing into a mixture of horror and anger.

 _No._

 _I saw it._

 _I saw the body bag. I saw them zip it up, I was there when they incinerated it._

 _This is impossible._

Suzaku was staring at a ghost. His face was set neutral and welcoming, going through the motions and preordained script he had prepared prior to this day. And yet, on the inside, he was shaking. He could feel his stomach churning, warming up and falling to his feet. Fear. It had been so long since he felt that. They had reached the royal guard when he steeled his will and looked at her again.

In those eyes were a kindness and welcoming he had long since thought was gone, but even as the light within them changed, their amethyst colour didn't.

It was halfway through the car ride when she finally spoke. "I'm sorry for being late, Sir Kururugi. Honestly I was fretting for hours about whether or not you'd be angry at me. Are you? I hope you're not."

Something, something about her voice made Suzaku's heart leap. It shouldn't have. He hated her. She killed Euphie. There was no way that he liked her voice, even if it was someone else in her body. "No, I'm not." He replied, a slight tone of annoyance filtered in. It wasn't something that hadn't gone unnoticed by her. "Sophia" lowered her head, in something similar to sadness or shame. What it was Suzaku couldn't pinpoint with certainty.

 _His majesty probably erased her memories again._ He thought. The Julia Kingsley persona had somehow dissipated during their stay in Europe. He still remembered it, her breaking down and yelling out "Nunnally!". He had hoped that Lelouch never returned. And yet she had, somehow. He inwardly smiled. At least it gave him more to play with. He inwardly frowned at Lelouch again, or this time, Sophia. Twice now she had the blood on her hands washed clean, twice she got a second chance to become the girl she used to be. First with Julia, now with Sophia. How he wished that he could have the same done to him.

Back in the estate Suzaku led Sophia on a tour of the main house. He had arranged for this to be her residence for the time being. It wasn't like the previous owner was around to use it. It was in the gardens that he realized what was actually going on with Sophia.

"The flowers look nice," She said to him, staring out at the arrays of roses and daisies and tulips, resting amongst perfectly trimmed hedges and grass. It hadn't changed at all, even after its master died.

He glanced towards her when she thought he wasn't looking. Within her eyes was a calculated look. It was that look, so similar to the one in Lelouch, that tipped him off. He walked over to her, shooing away the other guards before he acted.

It was simple touch, almost a caress on her shoulder. But the reaction told him everything. Every session between them had started with that action, specifically the ones where he tortured and violated her.

Sophia almost leaped away, turning around with a deadly look in her eyes right at Suzaku, before it faded away at the realization that her guise was blown.

"So, you do remember. Julia." He said in a low voice. Somehow, Julia had changed after recovering Lelouch's memories. Still remaining dominant, she became what could be described as her Zero persona, or what was her true self in Suzaku's mind.

"Yes, I do remember." She said, the cold voice replacing the dulcet tones she used prior. "I remember everything." She shoved him towards a hedge, pinning him to it. The shrubbery poked at him, tangling in his hair and piercing through the knight uniform he wore. But that was the least of his worries. She took off her hat, laying it on a stone ledge nearby.

Clasping his large right hand in her two smaller ones Julia laid it on her chest. "Can you feel that? That loud beating?" Suzaku could feel it. It beat loudly and quickly, as if it wished for freedom from her ribcage. Her breathing was also ragged as well. She smiled at him, a cross between her happy smile and evil smile. "That's for you. A bit of fear, a bit of anger," She pressed up against him, and his arm dropped to his side. Her mouth nipped at his left ear, the sharp sensation triggering both disgust and desire at the same time, "and a little bit of love."

Her eyes glazed with desire, and her hands moved under his shirt, tracing his solid chest. Suzaku fought the heat pooling in his lower stomach, filling his own mind with thoughts of Euphie. But that was put to rest when Julia took his mouth with her own, and his resolve crumbled. _I'm sorry, Euphie,_ he thought as he kissed his lover's killer. It was like two stone pillars crashing into each other. Suzaku wrestled for control in the kiss, their tongues darting and dancing around each other like a pair of hungry dogs, but it was like fighting a storm. He was swept up in Julia's lead. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, tracing out sensitive areas memorized to a fault. He moaned as she dominated his cavern, and again when her fingers began tweaking his nipples.

Suzaku's legs grew weak, and soon he was being supported on Julia's thigh. The sensation on his chest stung, but felt hot at the same time. Julia broke away first, the strand of saliva connecting them remaining for a short second before disappearing almost instantly.

"Do you remember those days Suzaku?" She said continuing the ministrations on his chest. "You, and me. You forcing me on the ground, ripping my clothes off as I screamed for you to stop, beating me senseless and taking me as your own right then and there." She said as if she was reminiscing about a walk on the beach. Suzaku found himself between panic and lust, as he stared into her hooded eyes. "I sure hope you enjoyed it, Suzaku," She said sweetly, moving one hand towards his pants. Suzaku's breathing picked up.

"Because I hated every fucking second of it." Her voice switched tones once again, right as she twisted his nipple, sending shooting pain into Suzaku's chest. He bit down a yell, not wanting to attract the attention of the guards, and instinctively kicked Julia away.

She laughed at him for a moment before turning around and leaving as if nothing happened. Not a wrinkle in her dress or a strand hair on her head was out of place. Suzaku realized that his arms had been frozen at his side the whole time. Julia dusted off her hat and gave him a coy giggle before walking away, leaving him confused, panicked, and aroused all at the same time.

* * *

A/N: Does this count as smut? I don't think it does. Someone tell me if it is and I'll put it into another "Unrated Cut" fic.

[1]: Damn it the heart doesn't work. Stupid me, stupid me.

Next Chapter: What is Dead may never Die


	7. What is Dead May Never Die

Suzaku stared the far wall of the briefing room, covered from roof to floor with large screens, each one showing either a face, blown up to sizes that him feel much better about sitting so far away, or maps of various important districts around Area 11, especially the ever growing red blemish called the SAZ. The entire room was built several dozen meters underground, under even the interlocking plates that held the city above. It was organized like a movie theatre, with six semi-circular blocks organized like stadium seats. Each one set about eight feet below the one above it. Within each block sat office staff tapping away, coordinating police, military, and emergency crew around the city. Built as the nervous centre of the military in Area 11, away from prime targets like the Viceroy Palace, it was the crownpiece in the new army system, the culmination of the harsh lessons Britannia learned from the Battle of Toyko and subsequent aftermath.

"How are the investigations into the terrorist attack on the Baronet of York?"

Suzaku walked back over to the front of the section he stood on and looked towards the frontmost at Julia, upright and pacing around. She had jumped right into action, taking no time at all to organize the affairs of the police and military and, as Gino liked to say, "get shit done". Three drug dealing groups, four crooked businesses, the final list of Japanese rebels given amnesty completed, and countless cases of small crime and even a few lost pets, Julia directed every single case herself. In two weeks she had done more than most police forces would do in a year. They were practically singing her praises from the roof of every building in Tokyo.

"Not well, Commander Patton," The voice of one Inspector Wilkes echoed across the room. "We've conducted interviews on all the guests at the party, none of them seem to remember much about the incident. We've told them that the terrorists were stopped by an experimental KMF unit, as ordered. There's no trace of propellant or descent boosters within any area of the manor, so we've got no idea how in the world it got there."

The soft expulsion of breath from Julia was one of frustration. Weeks of investigation turned up very little about the group involved and practically nothing about the rogue Knightmare, now code-named "Black Dog". No CCTV footage, unreliable eyewitness accounts, no random orders of raw materials. All they had to go on was an abnormal Sakuradite Reactor signature, captured from space by a passing weather satellite.

The click of her heels was rhythmic comfort to her stressed mind. "Call off the investigation. Let it go cold. If that's the last we see of those terrorists, that'll be the last of them. And we'll know when Black Dog shows up again." It was difficult to admit defeat, even temporarily. There were more pressing issues than a dormant terrorist cell and a seemingly helpful ghost of a machine. She asked the nearest person to her right to cut the call before departing up the flights of stairs to Suzaku.

She could feel his wary eyes on her, radiating contempt, as if to penetrate her very being. She tossed a coy smirk his way, as per the norm, and strolled past, seemingly unaffected. She did notice that they had become increasingly less intense as of late. Apparently even he couldn't argue with her results. He kept pace at a careful distance behind her. He had made the rule, on her second day in Area 11, that he would follow her around, an action which was made possible by the new, replacement Viceroy, Lord Lambert arriving. A stout man with a large voice and very classically Britannian features, he was sure to inspire more confidence in the remaining Britannian Nationals than a Number as a leader.

The harsh light of the white hallway outside brought Julia's attention back to her fatigue. Upon exiting the underground room she slouched from her formerly perfect posture and let out a mighty yawn. Suddenly the heeled boots she had decided on that morning seemed like much less of a good idea than ever.

The body Julia inhabited was used to all-nighters with minimal sleep and plenty of coffee. Extended working hours had always been a part of Lelouch's daily life, what with moonlighting as a terrorist leader while pretending to be a student. The sleep deprivation during her time in prison, experienced by both Lelouch and Julia, made the active, restless nights of managing the combined forces of all of Area 11 pale in comparison. Even so, there was little she could do to stop the incessant yawns and aches that came with overwork.

Several elevator rides and miniscule cat naps later they had arrived back onto street level. The sudden oppressive noise of traffic in the middle of the day replaced the dull silence and clean hums of the underground facility. They had exited what seemed from the outside to be a regular police precinct, but the few allowed access to the highest security level knew about it, and it was a secure way to communicate abroad quickly. With an operation as tight-lipped as the Black Dog investigation, the danger of information leaking out was too great to risk a less safe line. To her pleasant surprise Gino was waiting for the two of them, leaning on a sleek blue sports car, shades on and generally looking both aloof and attentive to his environment at the same time.

"You guys are finally done, I mean geez, what took you so long?" He wrapped his arms around the duo, walking them over to the side of the road.

"You're here early," Suzaku dodged the question, sounding slightly irritated at Gino's timely arrival.

"Yeah, I know. We got held up by Australia, something about a volcano in the area going off. I just hopped in Tristain and hoofed it the rest of the way. So, voila." He let go and dusted his hands across his torso.

"Is Anya here yet?" Julia interjected.

"No, she's still coming. There isn't enough sakuradite in the world to keep Mordred in the air long enough to get here." He chuckled at his own humour. "Which reminds me. Suzaku, you still owe me from the last duel we had." His head tilted downward and pointed at the other party. His gem-like blue eyes peaked out from behind the expensive Ray-Bans.

"I'll get on that, I'm just kinda busy right now." Suzaku replied. He tried to rest his arm around Gino until said blonde grabbed Julia by the shoulders and tilted her chin towards his face.

Gino moved in, with less than an inch between them. He scrutinized every crease and valley on her face, eyes darting about from behind the tinted glasses.

"Sophie~" he cooed, using her assumed name and rubbing her cheekbones just under her eyes, "You really need to rest, how long have you been up?"

"S-seventy-two hours I t-think," She pretended to swoon under Gino's sudden close attention. She had quickly befriended the blonde teen in Pendragon, and now he was a self-proclaimed best friend to her.

He seemed to droop upon hearing that. "You can't be like that, Sophie~," again he dragged her name out, melancholically this time, "Go and sleep, you can't be awake that long. Hell, even I couldn't do that. Not even in boot camp."

"A-alright," Her voice was pitched and quieter, meek almost. A far cry from what she assumed was her normal tone.

"That reminds me," Gino quickly spun on heel back towards Suzaku, bouncing from worried friend to happy friend in a moment, "There's a new shawarma place on King and 9th, it's GREAT. I gotta take you there, like now. Your treat. Remember~, you owe me~!" Julia smiled as Gino yanked the poor Knight of Seven to his car.

"But-but, I-I got things to do, the new Viceroy to get ready for tomorrow, all kinds of-" Suzaku protested.

"-all kinds of stuff that can wait until you've eaten lunch. Jeez Suzaku, you look as thin as Sophie over there." Gino interjected, "But no seriously, go home and sleep, Sophie. You look like a ghost!" He yelled at her from the edge of the road now, trying stuff a still-protesting Suzaku into his car. She smiled as sweet as she could and waved them goodbye, the facade dropping the moment they were out of view. Gino didn't know anything about the Zero Case. Only Suzaku and the emperor knew about Lelouch, and herself. Keeping him in the dark was all but paramount.

Her driver had come to pick her up not five minutes later. The smooth leather of the seats was anything but comforting. The springy, soft material was completely different from the cold, sterile metal that had filled her world in her first moments, but nevertheless every sensation kept her on alert. Even without the Black Dog investigation it was unlikely that Julia would sleep.

Memories and nightmares assaulted her, more than normal. In day she looked at them with cool apathy, an outside observer. But in sleep, there was no barrier. Feeling and emotion flowed freely in the dark oblivion of rest. It was worse now, and Julia knew the reason. She was here, in Japan. Lelouch's second home, if not her first.

The tingle in her left eye was common as she passed through areas the previous owner of her body had. But there was no geass. Not anymore. No blood red veil over a door to a black soul. Only an amethyst jewel, reflecting all light that enters, and letting none see beneath. Julia flexed her fingers again, the first exercise that was asked of her. Even now she felt alien in this body, even while living her own life.

Julia fought to stay awake. As much as she hated sleep, her body could only go so long without the comfort of oblivion. There was a partition between her and the driver. She pinched her own skin, slapped her cheeks, counted in steps of 47, sat in the most uncomfortable position possible. Anything for it to stay away. She made a quick mental note to put a minibar in her car and stock it with enough coffee to wake a bear in winter. At some point she was left with nothing but poking herself with a pen.

The world had other plans for Julia. The rumble of the car, the gaze of warm sunlight on her from the window, the soft, cushiony leather of the seats all conspired to drag her into the dark depths of her own mind. Her eyelids fell, and there was no way she could fight it.

* * *

There was no control in her dreams, none at all. Sometimes she wondered if Lelouch really was trying to reach out. It seemed like the only explanation.

It hurt. It hurt so much. Lying there with the cold steel against her face, the feeling of air being driven out of her lungs as the boot came down for another kick. Weren't dreams supposed to be painless? She couldn't move. Not even an inch. No amount of pain could paralyze her like this. Suddenly there was water. Ice cold. Her vision was blurry, too blurry. No details she could recognize, certainly not those of her assailants. She sputtered from the sudden liquid invasion, and hands reached out from the unknown, pinning her to the floor.

Her vision darkened again, and breathing became a challenge. Her panicked mind ran through as many possibilities as possible on what was being done to her, and it rested on one, cruel result.

She barely had time to suck in a breath before the water came again. She immediately gagged, her mouth reflexively trying to breathe against the saturated cloth around her face. Her chest spasmed, pain and burning flared across her throat and lungs. Her limbs flailed uselessly against grips of iron, holding her down.

There was no need to wonder why this was happening. She had committed the crime, and she would now pay for it. She didn't have to resist. She could just… let go. The world hated her. Her followers hated her. Her friends and family hated her. There was no place for a sinful demon on this earth.

From the depths of her mind she could feel her breath giving out. Her lungs deflated and mouth closed up. The embrace of unconsciousness in here was welcome, a reprieve from the horror and pain around her. This time, she let go.

" _You can't escape."_

Julia awoke with a desperate gasp. Her diaphragm spasmed to take in the sudden rush of air into her lungs. Eyes fully opened to clear blue skies that stretched far beyond, with clouds that moved far too quickly for reality.

"Big Sister! Big Sister!" She heard a sweet young voice next to her. "You're awake now! Let's Play!"

Next to her stood a young girl, no older than five or six, in a simple white dress that went to her knees. Long raven hair framed two purple eyes and a wide, innocent smile. The front two teeth on the top row were missing as well.

Julia stood up, dusting off her own white dress. Immediately the child pulled her by the hand over to a large tree, where two other raven-haired, purple eyed girls sat by.

"It's sooo boring here." The young child sat down by a set of blocks. From her new position the black tattoo on the young girl's left arm, a number 1 written in fancy calligraphy surrounded by a border in the shape of a diamond. "Big Sister Two is still asleep, and Big Sister Three never wants to play. At least you're here."

The names were arbitrary, given only upon Julia's observations. There was no reason to get attached to these figments, these constructs.

She walked barefoot across the smooth, white surface beneath her feet. Along with the sky it stretched as far as the eye could see. Only here, where the tree cut into the white ground with black roots, was where there was anything.

Julia approached Two, a shivering young teen, only slightly younger than Lelouch's body herself. The 2 tattoo was surrounded by a heart border.

Every attempt to touch Two only ended in the girl shrinking away, curling into a ball to avoid contact. If Julia did touch her, Two would only recoil and thrash around until she let go, before returning to her prior, weepy state.

Three was a different matter. She sat on one of the roots, looking at her own hands. Her dress was not pure white. It and her body were covered in blood. Splotches of it across her face and down her arms and torso, pooling across the roots and onto the ground. She simply stared at her own hands, eyes wide and shocked in disbelief and sadness. Her tattoo was surrounded by a spade. The girl herself was unresponsive, never reacting to any stimuli. Pushing her over just left the girl staring at her hands, now on the ground.

This was her sanctuary, if one could call it that. As much as she dislike being back in here, the ruined depths of a previous mind, it was certainly safer than being within the nightmares of sleep. Here she had at least a modicum of control.

Julia stepped back from the group, One too enthralled in her blocks to notice her change in location. She looked at the top of the tree.

A blood red rose, with a diameter of almost five meters, sat nestled between the branches of the gnarled oak. Inside it was another girl with the same features as all of them, unconscious and naked. Julia smirked at her position. Lelouch had always been one for symbolism, if her memories were to be believed. The girl hung from a cross of vines, head drooped forward in unconsciousness, arms outstretched to the side. Occasionally a black tear would fall from the left side of her face, silent as it fell into the pool with others around it.

"You really did a number on this one, Suzaku." Julia noted, while scratching her left arm, where her tattoo was, a black 4 surrounded by a clubs symbol.

* * *

 **A/N: So, yeah, Season 3 hype, Whoo!**

* * *

Next Chapter: Solace of the Damned


	8. Solace of the Damned

The tinkle of a bell rang throughout the nearly empty bar. The barman didn't even look up. He knew who it was. Nobody else came in here at noon. A glass was already cleaned and ready, filled halfway with brandy. He didn't care what it was .Only that it was strong.

The man sat down in front of him, placing a hundred pound note on the counter before downing the drink. A sigh escaped the man's lips, his one good eye not hidden by layers and layers of bandages downcast and dark.

"Women troubles?" The bartender, a large, stout man with a prominent moustache. In all his years of working in this bar, there were few reasons a man would walk in at such a time and look the way that the man across from him did.

The bartender found himself the target of a bemused, but wistful stare. "I guess you could say that."

Jeremiah Gottwald was a man of virtue, of honor. A knight by birth and a noble by blood. To fail his lord was possibly the gravest error he could ever make in his lifetime. And now it was nigh impossible to call himself a knight any longer.

They were his greatest mistakes, failing the Vi Britannias. In his time in Japan he had read about the mythical samurai. Warriors who lived and died by their masters. When their lord died, they did as well. He now well understood the desire. That listless feeling, that lack of direction, left him hollow. Along with the guilt of broken oaths, and now the once proud Jeremiah Gottwald found himself wishing for the embrace of death, or at least something similar.

Refrain had been an option, and it came to mind almost immediately. The red vials and small syringe beckoned to him, especially after his permanent resignation from the army. Most assumed it was due to the scandals, and he let them think that instead of hunting for the truth. After all, how could he protect the general populace when he could barely protect those close to his heart?

"'Follow you to the ends of the Earth', my ass." He shook around the glass, filled again with brandy.

Three black marks on his name. The Vi Brittanias were that, and more.

Marianne, the mother, was his first post. When he was fresh out of the Military academy in Colchester he had wanted to pilot the newly minted Knightmare Frames. He wanted to be out there, fighting for the glory of the Empire. He was quickly diverted away by the future Empress Marianne herself, after being taken under her wing. He admired "The Flash", and with good reason. She was the best pilot in the army. That admiration continued later into his life and never faded. After her marriage and scandalous induction into the ranks of royalty Jeremiah practically jumped on the opportunity to become her guard, and eventually, possibly even her knight.

And then she was killed.

In retrospect, it was honestly stupid to obsess over the failure of the case to lead to a conviction, but he had sworn an oath to protect her and her family. And he had broken that promise.

He could still remember the funeral. A quiet, discreet affair with only close family and friends. The crowd should have congested entire blocks, with wreaths and bouquets flooding the cemetery itself. But it wasn't. Only the Asplunds, the Li Britannia sisters, and Lelouch Vi Britannia herself were present. The younger Vi Britannia was still in critical condition. Overcast, but not rainy, Lelouch's futile attempts to suppress tears were visible for all to see.

" _WHY?! Why didn't you protect her?"_

The fists pounded against his thigh, the young girl's punches barely hurting him physically. But in his heart, he was close to breaking. Why hadn't he done something, anything? Replace some of the guards in secret, add more patrols, put observers on the Empress. He had followed Cornelia's orders, and his pride paid for it. As binding as his oath to the crown was, in his heart, his oath to the Vi Britannia's was even stronger.

Jeremiah had thought of retiring after his failure at Aries Palace, but the two children of Marianne kept him in place.

After the supposed deaths of the sisters, he found himself in another bout of depression. His work in the Purist Faction had barely saved him from despair.

The discovery that Lelouch and Nunnally were alive had seemed like a miracle, God's second chance given to an unworthy fool. But he had taken it like a man in a desert would water. He swore another oath of loyalty to Lelouch. He would follow her even to his death.

What a load of shit that was now.

Marianne, killed on his watch. Right under his nose. Strike One.

Zero had been executed. Lelouch, and her persona, were now dead. Strike Two.

Nunnally was most likely in captivity, or worse. Lelouch's last order to him was to protect her sister, and he couldn't even do that. Strike Three.

If life was a baseball game, Jeremiah would most definitely be out. And it would be unlikely for anything upstairs to give him another chance to bat. He was done as a knight. There was no honor left to protect, no master to follow. There was just about nothing for him anymore.

The bar's bell rang once more.

* * *

The click of the door behind her made Nunnally's heart beat slightly faster. She thought back and realized that she had never left her home by herself until now. Barring the time with V.V she had never been outside without a close friend either. Then again, nobody was home to take her.

The hallway was eerily empty, although that wasn't surprising at the current time. People were either at work or at school.

Outside was a different matter. A cacophony of ordered chaos embraced the girl as she left the lobby. The assault of sounds didn't change in intensity with the recovery of her sight, and she could extract as much information as ever. The birds chirping on the balconies behind her, the breeze rustling trees and grass in the gardens, children playing in the nearby schools. She still heard it all.

The wheels of her chair rolled from bumpy flagstones to smooth asphalt. She ventured left, towards the store Sayoko always took her when shopping. People saw looked at her as she passed, but few actually stared. It had been a while since she starting living in the new SAZ, and people quickly got used to the soft spoken girl and her maid.

Nunnally stopped by a public park, pulling out a book to read. She didn't care what it was, only that it seemed large enough to fill up her time.

She left for the recesses of her mind, baring little attention to the moving world around her. Inside, everything was static. Fragments of memories stood frozen in glass around her, waiting to be touched and played like some eccentric thumbnail for a computer file. She walked-yes, walked-through the floating shards, each one smooth and cool to the touch. Many were just pieces of black glass. No images to go with the moments, but many were still quite comforting to her. These were her past. Moments frozen forever, ready to be played back.

This was all she was. Memories and the past reflected, stuck in some temporal limbo, never moving past those peaceful days seven years ago. Everything Lelouch did for her was to return to those days.

How selfish of her.

"Hello?" She yelled into the expanse around her. It was a blind guess, but she somehow had a gut feeling that whatever had given her Geass was still somewhere within her.

There wasn't much of an answer. The empty space utterly silent.

Nunnally thought back to the party, to what had happened. The promises she had made to… whatever it was. Bringing peace to the world? Even she knew how idealistic and impossible that was. With free will came conflict, that was the nature of people. No, the world was too big of an ambition. Maybe just… Japan. Peace to Japan. Yes, that would be enough. With her power she could do anything. She could make the world Lelouch wanted for her. She could-

"You could what?" Nunnally spun around to face the voice behind her. She found herself staring at a doppelganger, a duplicate of her with snow white hair and red Geass symbols in her eyes.

"I know what you're thinking. You could just take away the anger. You could take away the hate from people. You could make the Japanese and Britannians love each other." It crossed its arms. "You can't. You never will. Geass is powerful, but it has its limits. There's a time limit for how long an emotion you give or take away lasts, depending on who and what you're affecting."

The twin huffed and smirked. "Have you even used it since then?"

Nunnally's head sunk. She hadn't been able to duplicate what had happened at the party since then. No matter how hard she tried.

"This is going to be more work than I thought." It pinched the bridge of its nose. "Fine. You don't want to be powerless. You don't want others to do anything for you anymore. I'll help you. I'll teach you how to use your Geass."

Nunnally looked up at it. "Really?"

"Yes, yes, yes."It sounded quite annoyed. "But not right now." It punctuated with a yawn. "I'm still resting. Not used to a human body yet." It glared at Nunnally. "Don't wake me up like this again."

* * *

The apartment was as empty as Nunnally had left it when she had returned.

There was much for her to mull over now. The nature of her power, how it worked, and Nemo itself. It had told her its name before she left. "It means nobody." It had said.

Her power wouldn't solve everything. There wasn't any way for it to. It couldn't pull out all the anger in all the people in the SAZ, let alone Japan or the World. She had to think of something else. There had to be another way.

The sound of the front door opening again knocked the girl out of her musings

"Mistress?" Nunnally heard from the doorway.

"Yes, Sayoko?" She replied to the maid.

"I'm back from picking up the groceries. Are you all fine with pasta for tonight?"

"Ask Kallen and Milly when they get back. I'm OK with it." She wheeled her way over to the kitchen counter, where Sayoko sat, holding a curious black box.

"What is it?" Nunnally asked, settling right beside her friend and caretaker. Her attention shifted to the box itself, small and square, but highly embellished with purple lining and painted flowers. In the center of the face facing the two there was a letter N raised in gold. There was no question who it was from and who it was for.

"The mistress had this made a while ago, and told me to give you it when I thought was right." Sayoko looked pensive, distressed almost. "I think now is a good time."

Nunnally handled the box with care, running her fingers along the carvings. The piece was highly textured, definitely meant for a blind person to handle.

It was definitely meant to be opened, the hollow sound essentially confirmed that. But there was no latch or lock or opening at all. Nunnally looked at the N again, surrounded by a raised ring. There was a little notch on the wood between the N and the outside ring, and Nunnally pulled it off, revealing a small glass plate beneath with a raised fingerprint pattern on top.

She hesitated from pressing her finger against the glass. Should she? Should she take this gift from her sister? The one who went to war with Britannia for her? The one who killed for her? Didn't she hate Lelouch? Nunnally searched her heart, almost desperate to find something to hate.

There wasn't anything. As much as she hated the thing that Lelouch became, she couldn't hate her sister. The one who stayed with her, who carried her to safety after the invasion. Who smiled and loved and cared for her, who made sure she was always happy. No, she didn't hate Lelouch, or Zero. She just missed her sister.

The click of a hidden latch signaled the box unlocking, and Nunnally pulled it open.

The inside was relatively sparse, with only a few rolls of paper within. One of them was much thicker and heavier, and was covered in small dots. It took a moment for Nunnally to realize that it was in braille.

She traced her fingers along the page, closing her eyes to read as if it were habit.

 _Dear Nunnally,_

 _If you're reading this letter, then I am either dead or unable to take care of you further. There is no way I'll ever be able to make it up to you, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being careless. I'm sorry for still trying to solve mother's case. I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy. I'm sorry for leaving you alone._

Nunnally started to tear up. Her finger shook, slowing down how fast she could read.

 _But apologizing won't solve anything. All I can say is live, live Nunna. Change your name, change how you look, run away. Don't come back and try and avenge me. Forget about being a princess again. Finish school, get a job, and live. Please, do this for me._

Tears hit the paper, staining the edges before being absorbed into the thick parchment. She did care. Lelouch did want her happiness. Nunnally knew that, deep down. But hearing her sister say that, even beyond the grave, through this sheet of paper, brought her to tears.

The letter returned to a cordial, business-like tone.

 _In this box you'll find the account and PIN numbers to several dummy bank accounts I've set up. Within these accounts are funds totaling 3.5 million Britannian pounds, as of the date I am writing this. All for you Nunnally._

 _I'm sorry that I'm not here anymore, and I hope you'll live happily without me. Just know that wherever I am, I'm looking out for you, my angel. I love you._

 _Lelouch_

The tears came in force now, and Nunnally placed the now stained letter back onto the table before breaking down, crying into her hands. Sayoko stroked her back as she sobbed, silently sympathetic. Along with that, she could feel Lelouch's love, once again. Farther away, yes. But still there, lovingly watching.

 _Don't come and avenge me. Live. Please._

"You idiot." Nunnally thought. "How am I supposed to do that now?"


	9. Honorable Ends

**A/N: So, am I back? Did I find some magical reserve of inspiration? Is is just months of preparation and constant writing? No. No it isn't. I'm not back. Not fully. I'm not writing at 100%, all the time. I'm only updating so fast right now because I'm in that awkward buildup phase of a book that I can never get the hang of. If all this feels disjointed and rushed, it's probably because it is. This is probably just a bunch of flash moments, and It'll definitely pass. I'm not going to be in top from for a while, and don't expect these speed uploads to go on forever.**

* * *

"C'mon, get up. Let's do this again." Nemo crossed her arms as she stood over Nunnally, who was on her arms and knees.

She coughed and spit phlegm onto the floor, panting from overexertion. Sweat dripped down her face, leaving her slick and cold.

Even in this limbo, this world between worlds Nemo inhabited, she could be exhausted. She stood back up, wiping off her mouth before turning back to Nemo.

"We're making progress. Try again. Don't just feel their emotion. See it." Nemo snapped its fingers and another three figures, weaved of gears and with a white mask for faces, appeared. Red shapes flicked across the masks, filling in facial features.

The red veil in Nunnally's eye returned, this time on command. Entire days could pass in this shard of C's world, whatever that was, and only hours would pass in real life. This place housed their minds, while Nunnally's body slept in reality. In here she could stand, and run, and jump. In here, she was as strong as anyone else.

They had worked on controlling her Geass, making it work with her will. Bidding it to come out, even for a second, had been arduous and painful, but eventually Nunnally had control.

The figures fell into more human poses, walking around. Two of them stood rather close, seemingly whispering to each other. The other lagged slightly behind, detaching itself from the group.

"Can you see it? Tell me what's going on. What are their emotions?" Nemo paced around the white marble floor.

"I-I…" Nunnally squinted. Colours swarmed around them, too faint to recognize a single shade. She focused, willing the swirling clouds to materialize into a more solid form. Between the two talking there was… pink? Red? Orange? It swirled around, too faint and mixed to tell. The last one was also too faint, was it red? Brown? Black? She pounded her fist against the wall beside her.

Her eyes burned, tears starting to come out of the left. Every use took so much out of her. The colours started to focus, coalescing into solid halos instead of swirling storm clouds.

"Those two... Are in love. Possessive of something, and… happy?" She replied.

"Good. What about the third?" Nemo smirked.

"I see… more love. And-and something else, something black and red and orange. Anger?"

"Not quite."

"Jealousy then?" Nunnally replied.

"Yes. We'll work on connections later. You can let go now." The automatons continued to walk in a wide circle.

Nunnally collapsed as the Geass faded away from her eye. Panting and coughing once again.

"We're going to have to work on your stamina." Nemo walked over to her. "Now, try putting emotions into them. Try… love in that one," It pointed to one of the two that were near each other, "and see if you can direct it towards the far one. Oh, and no talking. Just Geass."

Nunnally shakily stood up again. "Okay."

Directing emotions with her voice had been easy. Once she could control the activation, carrying emotions with her voice had been easy. But simply directing emotions into people, That was hard. Nunnally could barely even attempt it without breaking down physically. Rejection of the emotion was far more likely as well. No trial of direct manipulation had worked so far.

Geass appeared again, covering her eye with red light. Nunnally grabbed hold of that pink halo around one of the automatons, adding to it. The effort made her head spin. There was ringing in her ears, her heart threatened to beat through her chest.

 _Thoughts, I need to add thoughts. Loving thoughts of that of that one over there._ She yanked on the halo, trying to pull it over to the lone figure. It refused to budge, and she pulled harder.

 _Loving thoughts, loving thoughts_. She used like a wedge to pry the pink field free, and it slowly came loose.

 _Loving thoughts, loving thoughts._ Her throat was dry from panting, Her stomach curled. Her head felt like it was stuck in a vise.

 _Loving thoughts, loving thoughts, lovi-_

Nunnally let go and fell forward, blood spilling from her nose as she puked. The smells of iron, bile, and acid filled her nose, but she didn't turn away. She couldn't. She was too tired.

"Tsk," Nemo crouched over the fallen girl. "Is this because of me?" It muttered to itself. "I knew I should have picked a better candidate." It looked at its own hand. Not normal. Even for a code bearer. It should have its own form, not forced to take on that of its contract, forced to live inside of another mind. It wasn't fair.

Nunnally slept soundly, unconscious from her prior effort. She would wake from this dream soon enough.

It looked at the automatons. The one lagging behind turned into a group of two, the one forward, now left behind, silently yelling at them. It smirked yet again. Its queen was definitely rough around the edges, but there was potential. A great deal of potential.

* * *

Nunnally woke up from her slumber. Her eyes, bleary from rest, gave her cloudy vision. She instinctively tried to stand up, only for her to lean over slightly while no response came from her legs. She was almost sad to be bound in her wheelchair again.

Nunnally remembered the first time she woke up in the hospital. Her sight gone, her legs bandaged and numb, her back oddly tingly. They said that several bullets passed through or ricocheted off her lower spine. They tried complicated terms like axons, spinal infection, and nervous tissue in ways a seven-year old could understand while she was on morphine, but she didn't listen. Nor did she care. All that mattered was that she couldn't move or feel her legs. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't even make her toes wiggle. Even through the painkillers and opiates fogging up her mind, she panicked. Being so helpless, so totally useless made her scared. Would her sister abandon her? Would anyone care for a blind, crippled girl in Britannia? SHOULD any of them?

Eight years ago now, that was. She had almost forgotten what walking was like. How grass felt between her toes, how much it hurt when there was a rock in her shoe. She definitely missed it, but it was long in the past.

She stretched her back. Even though her fatigue in Nemo's limbo left her the moment she returned to her own body, sleeping in a sitting position for many an hour left her slightly creaky and tired.

From outside the door to her room she could hear Kallen and Milly outside, probably cooking. Their voices were muffled through the bedroom door, and Nunnally realized how dark it now was. She rolled her way to the light switch on the wall, flicking it on. Her room was sparse, most of her belongings were tucked away, unused. The multitude of gifts from her sister, ranging from ornate jewelry boxes to simple little trinkets laid in her drawers. She had unwilling to pull them out, even now. Her clothes were neatly packed away, courtesy of Sayoko.

Her focused turned to the mirror on the dressing table. Her reflection stared back at her, unflinching, determined. She beckoned, and the red glow of geass came, filling the eye of both her and her doppelganger behind the glass pane. Something was different about the look. It was harsher. More determined and less innocent than the blind girl a year ago. Lelouch would have disapproved.

She made a fist with her right hand, and brought it down on her knee, just above the kneecap. Nothing. Not even a twitch. Her legs might as well not have existed in the first place.

* * *

Kallen slumped back in her office chair, brushing her hair back down. The office heater was on the fritz again, and the humidity was starting to get to her. She loosened another button on her shirt as well as her tie, hoping for the sweet release of sleep, which was more and more likely to happen at this rate.

Almost the day after the terrorist attack, donations and sympathy rolled in from every direction. Many commented on how "horrible of an experience it must have been," and "how terrifying it must have been, having to deal with those barbaric hostage-takers.". The money came in, a much appreciated boon to their funds. Recently it had gotten worse, arsons and sabotage escalating as construction continued. A bomber was apprehended before he could blow up the foundations of a new apartment building just yesterday. It was only going to get worse.

Needless to say, Kallen played along with the sympathy, fabricating the stories of courage in the face of death, defiance against adversity, and the like. Sure she was scared, but she had been a soldier, a warrior, a knight. The sickly girl with a core of iron that galvanized the people into helping those worse off was a fabricated image, but not without truth behind it.

Much like Lelouch.

Her thoughts drew back again to the mysterious girl. First a princess, then an exile, then a student, then a terrorist leader against the country of her birth. It was an odd story, to say the least. As much as Kallen doubted her motives, one thing was clear. Lelouch hated Britannia. That was the truth to Zero, that was what allowed her to empathise with them, to craft a following around her. A cult of personality, almost. Something in the way she spoke, how she crafted her speeches and words, that made them want to charge in headfirst, no matter the odds or the orders. She was a true leader, better than anyone else.

Kallen was knocked out of her thoughts by Ken stepping into the office. She had an open door policy. No need to ever knock.

The secretary was sweaty, more than usual. His collar drooped and his shirt stuck to him in odd places. His brow was shiny and wet, and he was breathing heavily.

"Miss Stadtfeld," She bit back the urge to correct him, "T-there's a call for you. Line Four. It's the Baronet of York."

She smiled lightly, quickening the pace of her own breathing. No need for him to think she was less sick than she made herself out to be.

"Thanks," She answered, "and go take a break, you look terrible."

"A-ah, thank you, Miss Stadtfeld, but I'll get back to my work. I've got plenty of water, a-and I can't just leave all the work to the others." He sheepishly smiled back before quietly making his way out.

She pressed the speaker button on the desk phone, along with the appropriate channel. With how disheveled and hot she was, she was glad that he hadn't requested a video call.

"Miss Stadtfeld, I hope this finds you well." The loud voice at the other end of the line was quieted and restrained by the capabilities of the phone.

"Yes, well, mostly. The heater in my office is decidedly not working today, and in my condition I'm not likely to stay here for much longer." She used the practised formal lilt of proper speech, drilled into her by her stepmother's etiquette classes.

"Oh, well that's a shame. I'll have to get one of my people over there right away to fix it."

"That's very gracious of you, but I shouldn't take away from your rebuilding of your manor." She replied. At some point the sympathy that the elite could pull off went from welcome to gratingly annoying.

"Oh, feh, that old place? I'd been planning on renovating for months now! I've just had the perfect opportunity to as of late. It's no bother. Anyways, on to business." As much as the voice didn't change, the tone of speech shifted quite clearly to Kallen.

"I'm planning on holding another event, something extravagant. I'm thinking of holding a full scale charity gala, performers and all." The voice was optimistic, excited almost, as if it were the perfect plan running around his head.

"So soon? What about the terrorists? The protests?" She answered. Even now there were still many who didn't like SAZ construction, and recent events have only increased their numbers.

"That's the beauty of it, Miss Stadfeld. That's exactly why we need to hold something, something big. We need to show that we're not scared. That we won't be cowed by a terror attack. We'll do something big and extravagant in the heart of the city. Safety in audacity, my girl." He paused, letting her take in his proposal.

"And what about security? I mean, even with all of this, we're going to need protection, right? We don't know whether there's a group with enough resources to attack us again. Who's going to pay, or heck, arrange that?" Kalen posited.

"That's the best part, my dear. I was talking to Viceroy Lambert directly over brunch just yesterday, and he decided that it would be perfectly fine for him to make an appearance, directly!" The man sounded quite giddy over the phone. "He said would provide security detail for the whole event. _Military_ security detail."

Kallen was honestly surprised. She had yet to meet the new Viceroy, and from what little she heard down in her end of the grapevine he was more of a political moderate. With sway and favour from the top authority in the country, it would grant the building of the SAZ and joint living zones legitimacy in the eyes of many of the rich, powerful elite.

She whistled in approval. "Do you have a date set for the event, or a location?"

"Yes I do," The man was practically beaming through the phone, "I've got invitations printed and groups booked. It'll be a week and a half from now, at Babel Tower."


	10. Emergence

Julia awoke with a sudden, desperate gasp, as if she had been drowning moments before. In her dreams, at least, she was. Her body was damp with sweat, and she panicked momentarily, thinking that she was still underwater, in those cold, dark depths.

 _You can't escape._

The words whispered in her mind, quiet and far away, yet to her, they were louder than a gunshot.

She chalked the nightmares up to the atmosphere of Japan. Maybe in her second home Lelouch was struggling to resurface, just as she did in Europe. Not this time. Not while she knew.

She swung out of bed, her feet wobbling as she stood up. Her hands shook, almost uncontrollably. The nightmares were all too real to be a coincidence.

 _In time, in time._

The first thing she did was grab a nearby vanity mirror, gold trimmed and embedded with jewels. The red glow was there again. The geass, barely inactive. It was faint and indistinct, the bird symbol clouded and blurry. But it was there.

"Not again." She said, digging around the drawer below the nightstand. Her hand fell upon soft silk and on hard, but pliable plastic. The crystals that hung from it swung and reflected the light pouring from the floor length windows, casting her hand in soft lavender light.

The eyepatch. In Lelouch's memories, a gilded cage, binding her to another's will. In her's, a lifeline. She shakily fastened it, feeling the familiar clicks as it fastened into place.

The slowly warming air around her eye, the weight of the fabric, the tinkle of the jewels, even the lack of depth perception and peripheral vision. Every bit of it made her feel comfortable. Safe. The past would not bother her now. It was unfortunate that she needed the other eye. She couldn't even count how many times, especially during the first few days, surrounded by nightmares and pain, that she tried to claw out the offending organ. Somehow, reeling from memories and sadness, she attributed it all on her eye.

Julia left the sheets on the four poster bed as they were for the maids. She remembered how they had continually insisted that they should handle the housework, not her. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, all of it. It was irrational for Julia herself to refuse, but something drew her to keep doing it to keep herself occupied. When the workload had caught up over the last two weeks she gave up, leaving it to them. But there was one thing she always refused help with. They could take care of her all they wanted. They could scrub the house clean until it shined like glass. They could starch her shirts until they felt like wooden boards. They could stuff her full of food until she died of a heart attack. But she would dress herself.

The room was Victorian in nature, with all the hallmarks. Four poster bed, gilded wooden furniture, paintings lining the walls, but the walk-in closet was very much modern. Fluorescent lighting, silvery, matte metal, smooth sliding doors and compartments. Clovis was an artist, and even in this estate, far away from the center of the city, his touch was in every room. Or, in this case, his creations.

The main bedroom was by far the worst offender, but even in this room, a ton of clothing had lived in the closet. Suits, coats, scarves, shawls, dresses, swimwear, lingerie. Literally every kind of clothing imaginable was here. Julia had immediately moved out all of it, categorizing every article and shoving it all into the main closet downstairs.

With only her clothes, the closet suddenly seemed vast and empty, sterile almost. She paid it no mind. A shirt was grabbed at random and buttoned it up. Julia kept some of the less gaudy, more pedestrian articles for herself to use, mostly shirts.

She fell into a quiet rhythm amidst the hum of the air conditioning. She started from the top Buttons passed hands and loops, fastening one side of fabric to the other. There wasn't any rush. She had plenty of time before she was expected anywhere.

She pondered what she would make for breakfast. Eggs? Pancakes? Definitely something simple for Nunnally to eat. Toast, perhaps? It'd have to be quick, or else they'd be late for-

"No," she whispered. "No. Nonononononono." Julia sank to her knees and grabbed her head, the last few buttons on the shirt forgotten. It couldn't happen. Not like this. Not now. She willed it away. Tried to banish the memories from taking root any further. But every thought of Lelouch's sister made her heart leap and eyes tear up.

Another memory came in. The SAZ incident. The massacre. Euphie.

 _My fault._

 _Her fault._

 _My fault._

 _Her fault._

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" She screamed. It didn't matter who heard at this point.

"Mistress?" She snapped her head at the voice. Her vision flitted between visions of cold steel walls and the dull aluminum of the walk-in closet.

 _STOP! STOP IT! IT HURTS! IT HURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS!_

"Are you alright, mistress?" Who was it, who was talking? Sayoko? One of Suzaku's hires? She couldn't tell. Voices and sound blended together.

Her vision cleared, and there they stood, One, Two, and Three. In front of her. Staring at her. Geass in their eyes.

 _What's my name?_

* * *

Julia cracked open her eyes. Everything was soft, unfamiliar. This wasn't the smooth, icy metal of the closet anymore. She rubbed the haze away and found herself face to face with a pattern of vines on silky cloth.

She sat up, turning over a rough blanket that had been placed over her. It took no time for her to figure out she had been moved here. But by whom?

She had passed out not long after the episode in the closet. That at least she could remember. The attack was over, at least. Her eye felt singed behind the eyepatch.

Julia looked around the room, with the one eye she had available, at the shelves of books, the grandfather clock ticking away slowly, the glass table looking quite out of place in the room. The paintings along the walls. She was still in the manor. She looked down, finding herself wearing a white blouse and dress pants. She frowned at the invasion of her privacy, whether it was necessary or not.

"Mistress, you're awake!" Julia heard from behind her. A young maid, no older than herself, with curly red hair stepped in, carrying a platter of breakfast foods. She almost ran over, setting down the platter before standing aside.

"Thank you, ah-" Julia didn't remember the names of the servants very well.

"Lucy, mistress. Lucy O'Dall." The girl bowed, hands clasped at her waist.

"Lucy." Julia repeated the name, "How did I get here?" There wasn't much need for formalities.

"One of the other maids, Alice, I think it was, heard you yelling from outside your room, Mistress. She found you in the wardrobe with only a shirt on, curled up on the floor passed out. We know you said not to interfere with your dressing in the mornings, but we decided in your state, well, that we should take care of that before bringing you down here."

Julia frowned lightly.

"If this displeases you, Mistress, feel free to punish us. We disobeyed a direct order from-,"

"Stop right there." Julia raised a hand as well to silence the maid. "There will be no punishment. You had my best interests in mind." She closed her eyes and sighed. "You are dismissed."

Lucy walked out of the room. Julia noticed the change in the girl's gait. Slightly less stiff, relaxed almost.

Of course she scared the staff. She was a military official, a high ranking tactician no less, with the ear of the emperor himself. They probably thought she'd have their heads on pikes if they displeased her.

She moved her attention to the breakfast platter. It was all finger foods. Sandwiches, muffins, fruits, small blocks of cheese. Beside the white porcelain plates was a carafe of hot coffee, totally black. It didn't take long for the staff to catch onto her preferred routine of drinking coffee.

It was with the first bite of blueberry muffin that Julia realized how ravenously hungry she was, tearing through the meal in what was probably unsightly fashion. Apparently mental breakdowns do wonders for one's appetite.

Once sated, she sat back. Almost on cue another servant, an older man probably used to the profession, came to pick up the silver platter and dishes before dropping off a folio of dispatches addressed to her.

Nothing of note was contained in the first few papers, just the normal reports. Criminal gangs stopped, reports of petty crime, mostly the day to day events of law enforcement. She turned them over with a bored eye.

The last two papers she stopped at, the coffee cup pausing halfway to her mouth.

 _Two shipments of Burais being sent to the scrapping yard raided. All personnel dead, All Burais stolen._

Well that was grim. She flicked through the report. No transmissions were sent. No security footage was recovered. Julia gave them credit. They knew what they were doing.

She sipped her coffee again. Why in the world would someone steal outdated knightmares?

She perused the timeline in the report, noting the exact moments when communications stopped. The report was too short, by no fault of the senders. Whoever the culprit was, they didn't want to be found.

She pulled out her phone, calling for a car to be prepared immediately. Perhaps there was something that the investigators missed.

Julia downed the rest of the now warm coffee before briskly striding towards the front foyer of the manor.

From the muffled, tense shuffling she heard the servants assembling by the door.

"Mistress." She heard the assembled chorus the moment she opened the door to the main chamber of the house. She looked down at them, an almost rag-tag looking group of five.

Lucy stood on the rightmost, holding her cloak. Two other maids stood at Lucy's side

along with three male servants.

The maid beside Lucy, a middle aged woman, held a large military-style coat to Julia. She took it from her with a nod before swinging it around her shoulder, threading her arms through the sleeves in one swift motion.

"Have a safe trip." Lucy said to her mistress as she handed over the cloak. Much like the ones assigned for the Knights of the Round, Julia's cape denoted her position as a close associate of the emperor. She clasped it onto her shoulders and passed on through the front doors.

The heat immediately enveloped Julia the moment she walked out into the bright, oppressive light. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. She almost ran to the waiting car, a plain black sedan. She threw open the front passenger door and scrambled in, basking in the cool air conditioning. She barely noticed her driver to her right as she buckled in.

"Where to, Julia?"

Julia's eyes widened in shock. Her real name shouldn't be known to anyone here, not even the servants. Did she mumble it in her sleep? Her pistol was already out and cocked, ready to question the driver to his identity.

Of course, that wasn't necessary. Midway through bringing her sidearm out she could feel it lighten. Her eyes narrowed at the driver, knowing exactly who it was.

"You seem a bit annoyed. Looking for this?" He held the magazine in his hand, dangling it in front of her.

She snatched it out of his hands and angrily checked the bullet count before stashing it and the pistol in her back pocket. "So what are you doing here, Rolo?"

"The order sent me to keep tabs on you, and deliver a message. Master V.V and The Emperor are getting impatient. You've been inserted for two weeks and yet not a single clue or lead on where C.C is." Rolo looked off to the side while addressing her. "I don't even think you did anything to find her."

Julia rolled her eyes. "Next time you talk to them tell they I've got a plan. As long as I'm here in Japan Lelouch will try to assert herself, no matter what she wants. That witch won't be able to resist coming back here."

"Careful, big sis. You're slipping again." Rolo chastised.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that. Whatever. I'll drive, you won't know where it is." She unbuckled her seatbelt. "Move over."

* * *

The crash site was as swelteringly hot as the manor, even worse now that it was the middle of the day. Julia had taken off the cape and overcoat, stashing them in the car down the road.

The Burais were being sent by armoured train to a scrap heap. By all reports the train had been stopped at a signal light momentarily before being pounded by heavy duty fire. The few defense troops on board didn't stand a chance.

Julia and Rolo walked down the tracks to the perimeter, from where the road split away from the railroad tracks. Although quite hot, Julia managed much better in only a blouse and military vest rather than a full overcoat and cape. The air was much more humid here, with all the trees and the lake nearby. They were close to Mount Fuji, and by extension the outer areas of the SAZ.

The edge of the perimeter was coming up soon, set up one kilometer in every direction from the wrecked train.

"Who goes there?" Julia heard a voice directed at them from the checkpoint up ahead, marked by pairs of simple waist high concrete barriers forming several wide chevrons with the points headed away from the wrecked train down the road. A Knightpolice Frame kneeled off to the side, in regular white blue and red, but with an odd attachment to the head. The red "crown", as that was as well as Julia could describe it, radiating red spires upwards and outwards from the forward portion of the head. Small whirring noises emanated from the tips as they spun around. "Only two of us." She yelled back.

"State your name and business." The soldier to her left said to her and Rolo as they approached the barriers. Julia pulled out her badge, an engraved plate with gold filigree, as was the norm for objects of high status in Britannia. She handed it over to him. With a flick of the wrist a green-tinted image appeared, showing her name and credentials.

"I'm here to examine the site." She said matter-of-factly. As a high commander, she pretty much had free reign for the most part. No need to deal with bureaucratic red tape.

The soldier pulled open the face mask, revealing a dark, clean-shaven face and similarly dark eyes. He turned over to the Knightpolice frame and the group of other soldiers there.

"Hey Skull!" He called out. "Come show these two around!" One of the soldiers, sitting down, looked up at them. All of them were without helmets, and the man who looked at them had short, strawberry blond hair. He picked up the helmet and fastened it while approaching them at a light jog.

"Who the hell are these two Miller? Who's the chick with the eyepatch?" Skull asked. Julia should have berated them right then and there, and only didn't because she had pretty much no identification to her rank, with her coat and cape in the car.

"Ha ha, you probably shouldn't be talking like that." Miller patted Skull on the shoulder, a sudden air of smugness in his voice. "This is High Strategist Sophia Patton. She's so high up on the ladder that she has the ear of the Emperor himself."

Julia saw Skull's eyes narrow at her upon hearing her rank said aloud.

Miller continued. "She's here to inspect the site, and make a-uh, professional judgement. Now then. I'll go get Ricky to start his watch. It's too freaking hot out here."

Skull sighed, obviously annoyed. "Follow me." He gestured to them tiredly before walking. Julia and Rolo followed closely behind.

As they went farther down the tracks, there were more soldiers and a few personnel in blue jackets, the investigators. Julia looked around and saw more and more uprooted trees, gouges of earth around them. At some points there were more potholes than actual flat ground. A few, larger craters made their appearance, scattered and sparse. She wondered what could make such impacts and get away so well. Artillery gun? No, the craters made impact points that were lopsided, too lopsided. The guns had to be fired from close range, or at least at a fairly horizontal trajectory.

Skull interrupted her train of thought. "So, what are you going to do? Court martial me?"

"Hm?" She responded.

"I disrespected a superior, hell I disrespected a noble, directly in front of them. Whenever that happens, it's usually a flogging. Well guess what. I don't give a damn. I don't care about what _you're_ going to do to me. I'm not scared of some sheltered-ass noble." He had stopped walking and got up right into her face, looking down from his taller stature.

Julia snorted lightly. "What makes you think I'm a noble? Hell, what makes you think I'll punish you?" She warily looked over at Rolo, slightly seething under his sweat covered brow.

"Oh come on, you can't exactly hide it. Some young girl like you making High Strategist? Out of fucking nowhere? You only got your job because somebody kissed up to the Emperor more than everybody else. You don't look like much, hell, Basic would probably have killed you. You're probably here because you haven't even set foot in a fucking fight yet!" Skull started yelling at her. She could hear Rolo breathing heavily now as well, and it wasn't from the walking.

"All of you are the same, just a bunch of stuck up, pompous idiots circle-jerking each other thinking that who your parents are matters more than what you can do. And guess what, princess, it doesn't! All of you will just turn tail and run the moment shit hits the fan. All of you will just abandon those under you the moment things go bad. You'll do it too, you pampered bitch. So punish me, punish me for telling you off. Show me that your tiny little ego can't take a-"

Rolo charged forward, grabbing Skull by the neck and pinning him to the ground, knife instantly at the ready to carve Skull's throat to ribbons through the protective layer between steel and skin.

"I've fucking had it with you." He seethed, slamming Skull's head into the gravel. "You do NOT disrespect big sister. Ever." He punctuated the last word by bashing Skull's head again.

"Do it, Shrimp." Skull pressed his own throat, although hidden by the fabric, into the blade.

Julia smirked. Even in the face death this man was abrasive and confrontational. "Let go of him, Rolo." She commanded. The tawny haired boy begrudgingly got up and helped Skull up as well. "But he-" Julia cut him off.

"It's fine." She reassured her 'handler'.

"Now then, Skull." She turned her attention to the soldier. "I forgive you for your language earlier. You had no idea who I was and that was plain to see. And I'm sorry about Rolo. He's a little, how you say, attached." Rolo had seemingly returned to his former natural nonchalant state, but only seemingly. She could see his neck muscles strained and ready, like a predator restrained. Skull looked slightly surprised, bemused possibly.

"But this, this is something else. You said it yourself, you mouthed off a superior, knowing full well that I was your superior. To be honest I should have you killed or at least dishonorably discharged." She checked her nails, playing up her image slightly. "But I won't. I'm not a petty person. I don't have much of an ego. However there still must be a punishment." She didn't have to look at Skull to know he tensed up.

"I want…" Julia let it hang in the air for a moment, "your name."

"What?"

"That's right, I want to know your name." She repeated herself, slightly annoyed.

"Are you kidding me? What kind of punishment is that? What, is this some kind of joke?"

"I do not believe you're in a position to believe that it is a joke. Especially since your other option is being gutted like a fish right here, right now."

Skull tsked before answering. "It's Sully Collingwood. Sgt. Sully Collingwood."

Julia smiled devilishly. Such a small thing, but it was fun playing with Skull. Almost as fun as tormenting Suzaku, but that was a different matter.

"Consider this your first and only warning, Sgt. Sully. If this happens again, well, I don't suggest starting any long books. Now then, shall we move on?"

Skull begrudgingly turned and continued walking.

The sweltering sun rose in the sky as the time approached midday, approaching its zenith above Julia. Viable shade along their path lessened by the minute, forcing them under the powerful glare of the sun. She tried to ignore it. It wouldn't help to look uncomfortable around Skull after browbeating him about whether or not she was capable as a soldier of her position. She couldn't afford to swelter and buckle while Skull trudged on seemingly unfazed.

There were whispers coming from the various ground crews they passed, quietly muttering as they excavated fragments of metal and analysed craters. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they way they looked away from her when she cast her gaze at them told her all she needed to know. Apparently rumours spread fast.

The ground became almost untenable to walk on, the dirt steadily replaced by wooden boards and several-foot deep holes. The command tent itself was now visible, the support poles pitched in odd places over boxes and boxes of materials and evidence.

A balding man turned towards the approaching group, pulling a sloppy salute that Julia quickly returned.

"I'm sorry about the accommodations commander. We couldn't get a car or knightmare to come pick you up, what with the condition of the tracks and all." He nervously dabbed sweat off his brow.

"It's fine," She snapped, acting slightly miffed. That was the problem with making a fake impression. You have have to keep it around. She made a small show of looking around unimpressed, soldierly almost.

"What have you all found so far?" She could see some tables around with lab equipment and microscopes.

"Not much directly. Whatever made this happen," The man, who Julia now assumed was the head of the ground crew here, gestured around the broken landscape, "it didn't use shells. No casings or anything around here for miles."

Julia thumbed her chin. "Any truck tracks? Any idea where they were firing from?"

"We did find two sets of tracks, deeper than any knightmares in production or service." The man went over to pick up a sheet of paper. It had pictures of deep tracks with muddled track patterns.

"You can see it gets deeper here, where the tracks end. That's where it fired from." The crewman pointed. " But we don't get is why the rear is slightly deeper and more patternless than the front. Here we can still make out the outside of the pattern. What all this means that we can't compare them to any tires we know."

He was right. As the tracks moved away from the abrupt end the edges tire patterns jumbled around.

"Doesn't that mean there were multiple wheels then? And that there's no tracks?" She asked.

"To be frank, madam, that doesn't narrow things down by much."

"No, it doesn't. But we know that whoever took these Burais is well equipped, especially now." She mused again at the timing. There had to be a reason why they knew to attack this train, and why they did. An armoured train full of old, outdated frames was a weak target compared to a depot filled with new prototypes. Far less risky of a target to, once one factored in the possibility for mechanical failures in the old Burais. There had to be a reason. She thought back to the group that had attacked the Baronet of York's estate. Was it them? Probably. With the SAZ and increased military presence after the Black Rebellion, few Japanese resistance movements remained in the country. Most of the disgruntled and disenfranchised were now Britannians, angry that their conquests were being taken away from them. As the population of the SAZ expanded, the protestors grew, both in number and audacity. Unfortunately, the anti-Japanese sentiment was still strong, with many officers and military units refusing to operate and investigate inside the new demi-state.

"Sir!" A CSI Knightpolice frame showed up, the black and blue colouring making it instantly recognizable. The pilot hopped out, a solid orange box in his arms.

"Yes, what is it?" She heard the response from the balding man.

"We've found a downed Burai in the hills, it's filter was faulty. Most of it was broken down already too." The pilot took a moment to catch his breath. "But we found this: A telemetry recorder." He handed the box off to a tech, who hooked it up to a laptop on one of the tables.

Julia looked as surprised as the foreman. A telemetry recorder would let them see the events that happened for the time that it was powered on.

After a few minutes of furious typing the laptop monitor flickered to life, showing a dark green field with light green grid lines and white contour lines. The train tracks were marked as well, running diagonally across the screen. From where the IFFs stood they had already derailed.

"So the emergency power turned on after the train crashed." The foreman said.

"It would seem so." Julia responded. With the way contour lines formed on the radar map they were still being bombarded. They looked to the point where they had found the deeper tracks and lo and behold, a bunch of individual IFFs clumped together. Six in fact.

Julia looked at it. 4 IFFs clumped together, obviously in a line. She racked her brains together. It looked familiar, where had she seen this before? Where? Where?!

The Kawaguchi Lake Conference. It was the cannon that was used in the tunnel to destroy oncoming KMFs. The one Suzaku destroyed. She quietly and begrudgingly thanked Lelouch's memories.

"I know what fired at the train now." She pointed at the 4 Knightmares.

"What, that clump of knightmares over there?" The operator replied.

"Yes, I've seen this before. I-It's a large cannon built using several knightmares. I saw one built on a similar frame in Europa." She lied. "They used an originally Eleven design. Apparently they call it a Raikou Cannon."

"A Lie-Cow cannon?" The foreman responded with a failure to enunciate the japanese intonation properly.

"Raikou," Julia repeated herself, "The Japanese word for lightning. I believe this time it is an energy cannon, if the lack of shells are to be believed."

The foreman grumbled. The screen sprung to life again, showing a dozen IFFs suddenly burst out of the forest, all red.

"Enemy knightmares." The foreman sounded grim. Without pilots, it was up to the surviving soldiers on board the train to mount a desperate last stand.

"Is there a voice or comms recorder, or anything with camera feed?" Julia asked the CSI pilot.

"No, all the other recorders were crushed. I found this one jammed between the seat and the front screen."

The enemy units moved in. Julia noticed they were disorderly, little cohesion to their ranks. This wasn't a calculated assault. This was a mad rush. The Burais began to move, the first train car's units now forming up on the other side of the tracks. And then, as quickly as they came, they left. The group moved northwards for a few minutes before splitting away, scattering. It was at that moment that the Burai the recorder was attached to stopped.

"That would be the faulty filler kicking in."

There was another KMF beside it, the make unknown but it was definitely one that the attackers used to get to the train. The last bit of recording was a missile incoming message before the screen went dark once again.

"They scuttled the Burai." The foreman said, and everyone in the tent was in full agreement.

"They didn't do a very good job of it." The pilot chuckled to himself.

"They did enough of a job." Julia interjected. "We can't catch them like this, all we know is that they're well armed and very dangerous. Organized, no. But dangerous, yes."

"It's probably some Eleven group or something. They even have that Rikey, Raican, Rai-"

"Raikou." Julia corrected the pilot.

"We have to think about motive as well." The foreman said, dabbing at another spot of sweat. "They don't have much of a reason to do this. What do they need old, decrepit knightmares for? There's not exactly a war to fight anymore."

"Whoever it is, this is about as far as we're going to get to finding them by combing the dirt." Julia said. "Get to analysing this stuff, see if anything's been going on. I need to go report all of this. Keep me posted, gentlemen." With a salute she turned away with Rolo in tow, starting on the dreaded trek through the heat back to the car. Skull was long gone too.

* * *

"Is all according to plan?" V.V asked from his sitting perch.

"Everything is coming together. Soon this broken world shall be whole again." The Emperor stood on the edge of an unending sky. If he took one step, it was likely he would fall forever. "All we need now is her. Even the womb has been found."

V.V smiled. "We're nearing the end, Charles. So much time, and soon, it'll be over. Soon, we'll have our Nirvana."

"What about that other nuisance? What about her?" The Emperor asked, not even turning.

"I doubt she can act at this point, Charles. Too much time has gone by. I wouldn't be surprised if she forgot the real world existed at this point."

Charles stared at the grey twist that formed in the sky, threatening to pierce the heavens above with its seemingly unending double helix. The Sword of Akasha was complete.

Soon. Very, very soon.

 **A/N: No, I'm not dead, just adding the last part of the crime scene... scene in. I needed time to rewrite it because it didn't feel good to me the first time. Exam season is in full swing for me so I'll be back up and running with a new chapter for you all by next Sunday. That's a promise**

 **EDIT: 2/6/17: I originally wanted to write over the weekend, but I had somewhere to go, so I decided the write on my laptop. With no net I had to use Word instead of posting into my giant Google Doc. Long story short, laptop dead, hard drive fried, have to restart. Between school as well.**


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